


Starcrossed

by Funtimewriter



Series: Falling Stars [3]
Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), Supernatural, The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Angel/Human Relationships, Angelic Grace, Angelic Lore, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF Blake Shelton, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Bobby Singer Lives, Canon-Typical Violence, Confused Castiel, Corruption, Dean Winchester in Denial, Don't Have To Know About Supernatural (TV), Enemies to Friends, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Illustrated, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Keep Your Eyes On The Moon, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Kissing, Prison, Protective Castiel, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Spoilers, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unrequited Love, Witchcraft, Yeah It's Gonna Hurt, long separation, my world my rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:19:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 114,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14551611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter
Summary: Following the disaster at the portal, Bobby is stuck with a group of overly-excitable musicians.  Blake and Sam are thrust into the spotlight, where Ketch waits with too much power and his own agenda.  Dean must deal with a past that is not his own.  And Adam and Castiel face the consequences of a fateful decision.  Four people from another world are trapped and struggling for their lives and their freedom.  What can a pair of singers do, when the odds are so heavily stacked against them?





	1. Bobby

**Author's Note:**

> This story will likely make very little sense unless you've first read at least one of the other two. For those who have, welcome back!
> 
> As always, comments, criticism, and flames are all welcome and will be responded to in the spirit in which they are received. I can be reached here, or my contact information is in my profile.
> 
> Real life has landed on my favorite head with a vengeance, and I've been forced to make some difficult choices. My time may also be quite limited, so daily updates will likely not happen. Whatever happens at the end, I fully intend to complete this story. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby discovers the world beyond the portal

            Bobby Singer once again reminded himself that he was too old for this shit.

            Bad enough he’d had to deal with Crowley.  It had come as no surprise to the veteran that the smarmy bastard had double-crossed them.  But when he’d looked up to see Crowley kissing his boy, with Dean dazed and unable to defend himself?  Bobby could have cheerfully throttled the King of Hell with his bare hands.  He’d known for some time now that Crowley wanted Dean, but he’d never been so blatant before!  Of course, even if Dean wasn’t perfectly capable of ganking Crowley, Castiel would have blasted the son of a bitch and spread his ashes all over the cosmos if he’d tried it.  That’s why Crowley had waited, Bobby realized.  The King of Hell had bided his time, patiently waiting until he’d dealt the angel a blow Cass couldn’t recover from and Dean was reeling.  And then the bastard had been free to put his hands on Dean, to do what he’d long wanted to do, just before he threw them all through the portal.  Bobby had never been so furious in his life! Oh, Crowley would pay for that, Bobby vowed, and pay dearly!  Still, as bad as it was, it could have been so much worse.  For a moment, as he’d seen Crowley hold Dean close, Bobby had noted the look of undisguised longing on Crowley’s face and had been terrified that the King of Hell had been about to simply take his boy away, spirit Dean off somewhere Bobby might never see him again.  But of course, Crowley had to have known he could never keep Dean, that Dean would find a way to fight until his dying breath.  So instead, the demon had steeled his expression and then shoved Dean through the portal.  His demons had followed up with Sam, and finally Bobby himself had been hurled through. Wise.  Any one of them would have hunted Crowley down to the end of their days.

            Bobby had managed to keep from landing flat on his face by virtue of some very fancy footwork masquerading as a windmilling stagger.  He just barely managed to avoid running into Blake and Sammy, who had apparently tangled together.  But a moment later, they were gone, and suddenly the area was a lot less crowded.  Bobby managed his feet, and stood, trying to get his bearings.  But it was all for naught when the portal collapsed, sending out a wave of energy that knocked him flat on his face anyway.

            “Balls!”  Bobby picked himself off of the ground and looked around.  Wherever he was, it was crowded.  In the light of the full moon, he could see a bunch of groaning, cursing men were presently untangling themselves from the ground and each other. But he didn’t see any of his boys. There were several vehicles parked nearby, including a motorcycle, and…  Holy shit, was that Dean’s Impala?  How the hell had Baby made it through the portal?!

            “Singer?  Singer! Bloody hell, is that really you?!”

            That voice.  Bobby turned, and there, sitting on his ass blinking at him like a damned fool, was Arthur fucking Ketch.  “You!” Bobby spat.  “Ketch, what the hell are you doing back here?!  I told you the next time I saw your sorry ass, I was going to put a bullet in it!”

            “But you’re _dead!”_

            “Obviously not, ya idjit!”  Bobby was no fool.  He’d already figured out that this was Ketch from Blake’s reality.  He had no doubt the Man of Letters would quickly catch on to who he really was.  In fact, Ketch’s eyes were already narrowing in suspicion.  But it didn’t matter.  Bobby’s pistol was in his hand, pointing between Ketch’s eyes.  “Get yer ass the hell out of here!” he ordered.   “My boys are missing, and I don’t need you underfoot while I get to work on finding them!”

            “Steady on!” Ketch warned, getting to his feet and raising his hands.  “I’m in charge of this investigation, and...”

            “Not anymore ya ain’t!”  Bobby jerked a thumb towards the group of tough-looking guys that had picked themselves up and were clustered nearby.  “These assholes with you?”

            “Certainly not!  That’s Maroon 5!”

            Bobby glanced over.  “There’s six of ‘em!”

            “Tell that to those wankers!  Singer, listen…”

            Bobby fired a shot near Ketch’s left foot.  The Englishman jumped and quickly backed towards the vehicles with his hands in the air.  “Dammit, Singer!  Alright! I’m going!”

            “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!”  Bobby waited until Ketch was on the motorcycle and driving out of sight.  Then he turned to regard the group that apparently couldn’t count to six.

            All six were staring wide-eyed at Bobby.  When his pistol swung in their direction, they all started yelling at once, raising their hands and pleading with him.  “Shut up!” Bobby ordered.  “You! Long hair!  You do the talking.  Who the hell are ya?”

            “A-alright,” the long-haired man stuttered.  “I’m James Valentine, and I play guitar.  We’re Maroon 5, dude!  We’re a rock band!”

            Bobby was not impressed.  “So?”

            “So, we’re Adam’s band!  Adam Levine? Blake Shelton’s husband?  You know Blake, right, buddy?”

            “Balls!” Bobby growled.  He lowered his weapon and looked around again.  “Where the hell did they go?  Where are my boys?!”

            “Um, your boys?”

            “Blake, Sam, Dean and Cass!” Bobby snapped.  “Where are they?!”

            “Ok, I’ll just tell you what I saw,” James began.  “Ketch had Adam and our angel in the glyphs, and…”

            “You said what?” Bobby interrupted.  “Did you just call Cass _your_ angel?  Dean would whoop your ass if he ever heard you say that!  Hell, I’ve half a mind to do it myself!  The hell is wrong with this universe?  You assholes own angels here?!”

            James froze, wide-eyed.  “Nonono! Uuuuuuh, listen, we’re not trying to, you know, stake a claim on him, but he’s real important to us, ok?  It’s like you calling him your boy?  That doesn’t mean you own him!”  He paused.  “Um, you don’t actually own him in your world or anything like that, do you? Castiel never mentioned...  Holy _shit,_ dude!” James yelped and the rest of the group yelled as the pistol once again leveled on him.

            “No one owns Cass!  Now explain yourself!”

            “Dude, I’m trying!  We call him our angel because he’s our friend!  He’s been our companion, our comforter, and our bodyguard, and when Adam got arrested and Castiel busted him out of jail and then killed all those people…”

            Bobby’s face was like stone.  “Get back to the story.”

            “Right.”  James swallowed hard, eyeing his band mates, who eyed him back in tense silence.  How Bobby thought they’d ever looked tough was beyond him now.  Right now, they all looked more like they were all about to either piss their pants or pass out.  “So anyway, Castiel and Adam were in the glyphs, and Ketch cast the spell.  And at first, everything was going fine!  Blake came through and that was awesome because we all missed the shit out of that big son of a bitch, you know?”

            “Yeah, I do.  So my boy Blake came through alright?”  Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, once again lowering his weapon.  “Well, that’s damned good to hear!  Alright, what happened then?”

            James and the rest of the mathematically deficient group seemed to relax considerably now that the pistol wasn’t pointing at them.  “Well, then Castiel screamed like something hurt him,” James relayed.  “Scared the shit out us, dude!  We’ve never seen anything that could hurt our angel, you know?  And it must have spooked Adam, too, because he grabbed Castiel, and then they both vanished in this big flash of light!”

            “And that’s just about the point where the shit hit the fan on my end,” Bobby grumbled.  “That bastard Crowley let us all believe he was gonna come through the portal he’d just helped make.  And instead, he used Dean to zap Cass, and threw us all through it!  That much I already know.  What I don’t know is what happened after Blake went through, before I got here?”

            “Dude, I don’t know!” James exclaimed.  “Like I said, Castiel got all bright and glowy, and Adam had already grabbed hold of him, and then poof, they were both gone.  Then we saw Dean Winchester come through and fall into our Sam Winchester, the lawyer…”

            “What?”

            “Yeah, on our side, Sam Winchester’s a lawyer.  We know he’s a hunter with you guys, or he was, because we used a spell and had him switch with his other self the same way you guys did with Adam! Don’t you remember?”

            “No! The boys didn’t say a thing about Sammy switching!”  Bobby was scowling.  He hated being left in the dark, but supposed he’d better get used to it.  It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.  “So my Dean fell into your Sam?” he prompted.

            “Yeah, dude!  And then the _other_  Sam Winchester, yours, came through and fell into Blake.  And then you fell through like a hair before the whole portal just went boom!  And Blake and your Dean were looking like they were in pain and they were both screaming, and the two Sam Winchesters were holding on to them and looking at each other, which was seriously trippy as a motherfucker and must have been even worse for the two of them because...”  He trailed off, noting Bobby’s glare.  James swallowed hard.  “Back to the story.  So the portal went down, and we all wound up on our asses, and when we looked up?  We’d lost Blake, and Dean, and both Sam Winchesters, and you were there, and then you started fighting with Ketch!”

            “Balls,” Bobby sighed.  “Blake and Dean must have got blasted by their links with Adam and Cass.  That’s why the portal collapsed.  If the two versions of Sam were each in contact with one of them at the time, they probably got dragged along for the ride.  Well, isn’t this just precious!”  His scowl deepened.  “Now I’m stuck over here with the boys, and we got a double dose of Sammy, and I gotta deal with fucking Ketch and a rock band that can’t count! Well, better double Sam than double Dean, I guess.”  He shot them a look.  “Where’s your world’s Dean?”

            “Dean’s...”

            “We don’t know,” another of the group, this one a man with shaggy dark hair, called over top of James.  “Our Sam Winchester never talked about him.”

            “Well, that’s his car over there,” Bobby pointed out, gesturing towards the Impala.  “He’s gotta be around here somewhere!  Ah hell with it, it don’t matter.  I think I’d prefer to deal with only a single version of Dean Winchester at a time anyway.” He glanced over at the vehicles, and then back at the band.  “Alright. At any minute, if it hasn’t already happened, some bitch in one of those houses across the way there is going to call the cops.  Then they’ll come out here, find the lot of us, and ask us way too many questions we can’t answer.  So, you’re all coming with me.  Congratulations, boys!  You’ve all just become honorary hunters!”

            “Honorary what?”

            “Is he serious?”

            “Dude, I’ve never been hunting in my life!”

            “I’m a vegetarian!”

            “Wait, did he just say we’re all coming with him?”

            “Um, you’re not taking me anywhere!”

            “What he said!”

            “Mr. Singer, we’re happy to help you out, but I think you’re a bit confused.”

            “I’m not the slightest bit confused,” Bobby told them cheerfully.  “We’re in a war, boys, and you sons of bitches have just been drafted!”

            “Drafted?!”

            “The fuck?!”

            “I’m a Mormon!”

            “I’m a pacifist!”

            “Ok, settle down,” one of them called.  “I got this.”  Turning to Bobby, the man gave a stern look, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Mr. Singer?” he began.  “My name is Matt Flynn, and I’m the drummer for our band.  You already know James Valentine.  That’s Jesse Carmichael, Mickey Madden, PJ Morton, and Sam Farrar.”

            Bobby crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the group.  “Bobby Singer.  Pleasure.  Get on with it.”

            Matt eyed him.  “You seem to understand this already, but this isn’t your world.”

            “Ya figure that out all by yourself, genius?!”

            Matt’s eyebrows shot up.  “Wow, dude, you are seriously surly!  Ok, here’s the thing.  This is our world, not yours.  Therefore, we have a much better understanding of what’s what here than you do. Agreed?”

            Bobby tapped his foot impatiently and continued to glower through his beard at the drummer.

            “Right.”  Matt swallowed.  “So, I get that you’re a hunter, and apparently, you’re a good one because, based on Ketch’s reaction, you’ve got a reputation here, too.  So, we could really use your help!”  A smile spread over his face.  “By the way, it was pretty sweet how you scared off Ketch!”

            “Yeah, seriously!”

            “Nice, dude.”

            “That guy was giving me some bad vibes, man.”

            “Yeah, I thought he knew what he was doing, but he was an asshole!”

            “Guys, shut up!” Matt snapped.  “Ok. Here’s my point, Mr. Singer.  We need to find our people, and we’d like to help you find Dean and your version of Sam Winchester, who we seriously need to find another name for because that’s just going to be so confusing! So, we need to work together, right? But this is a democracy, not a dictatorship!”  He glanced at his bandmates, noting the nodding heads and serious expressions.  “The six of us don’t follow orders from you, ok?” he went on, emboldened.  “You don’t just announce we’re coming with you and that we’re drafted because that’s not how this works.  Whatever we decide to do, we agree upon as a group!  If we work together, we can help each other and get all of our people back. But you are not our boss, Mr. Singer! Ok?!”

****

            The first rays of the rising sun pierced through the morning mist where a man walked through the park.  The tail of his long tan coat swayed with his steps, motorcycle boots picking their way across the dewy grass.  The man made his way towards the gazebo.  His hazel eyes narrowed as he took in the site, the scuffed ground, the trash can knocked out of its position and leaning now against a bush.  The eyes moved to the parking lot, where a classic black Impala waited alone, and frowned.

            The man pushed back the sleeve of his coat, revealing a watch fastened to a tattooed wrist, and frowned again as he noted the time.  He chewed his lip, his expression thoughtful.  Then he reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced a phone.

            The first number he tried rang for a bit, and then went to voice mail.  His brow furled.  He tried a second number, which went straight to voice mail.  The man stared at his phone, as though silently asking it for answers he wasn’t getting.  Shaking his head, he tried a third number.

            This time, he heard an answering ring from somewhere close.

            Surprised, the man turned, traced the sound of the ringing phone to the misplaced trash can, and walked over to investigate.  He peered into the can, and his brows shot up in surprise.  Reaching into the can, he pulled out a phone.  He looked at it a moment, puzzled hazel eyes moving from it to the trash can.  Then he reached into the can again, and came up with five more phones.

            Six phones, all high end, all discarded in a trash can at a park at some point during the night.

            The man stared at the collection of phones, chewing on his lip again as he considered what it meant.  The hazel eyes once again went to the lonely Impala, flicked over to the glyphs near the gazebo, and returned to the phones.  With a slight shake of his head, he dropped all six phones back into the trash can.

            Turning, the man tilted his head back, raising his face towards the sky, and closed his eyes.  He breathed deeply, seeking.  The rising sun illuminated the smile on his face as he found what he sought.

            Then there was the sound of fluttering feathers, and the man was gone. Now, only the tracks of his boots in the dew marked his passage.  Before long, this too would be gone, leaving no trace he had ever been there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said “Hmm. Interesting.” Laughed at Bobby chasing off Ketch and bullying the band. Thinks Matt made a mistake trying to stand up to Bobby.
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Maroon 5 was originally imagined as a four man group, with Adam, Jesse, and Mickey reforming their old group with Matt replacing their injured drummer. But their producer pushed Adam out front, added in James to take over lead guitar, and thus was formed Maroon 5. The later addition of PJ and then Sam brought their number to seven, but the band’s name was now a brand. Thus, the seven man band called Maroon 5!


	2. Spotlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no way to contact the others, Blake and Sam need to cope on their own with the spotlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, that inspection I've been working so hard to prepare for got postponed to next week. That means I have a bit of time on my hands this week, so here's a new chapter!

            For a celebrity, the press was a necessary evil. Your career was based on exposure, and that meant pictures and interviews.  Exposure kept you in the public eye, and, more importantly, their thoughts.  While people tended to think that being an entertainer was easy, the truth was that it was anything but.  Being an entertainer was all about selling a product.  Even on a live show like “The Voice,” you presented a certain front because you were selling a product.  With the exception of the occasional creeper stalker, no one wanted to know the real you. They wanted the entertainer, the product you were selling.  And God help you if you stepped out of line.  Blake had learned that the hard way.  He’d been publicly blasted and shamed over some stupid, thoughtless tweets he’d put out some time ago.  After that, he largely avoided social media any more than he had to, using a publicist to send out “his” tweets for the most part.  It was unfortunate.  Blake had always enjoyed interacting with his fans.  But in the end, he had to preserve the product he was selling.

            He’d learned.  He’d adapted.  And after twenty-eight days in another universe, where he’d become used to pissing on the side of the road and giving the finger to irritating motorists with absolutely no thought to his career, Blake was quick to realize he needed to learn and adapt again.

            Which made it even harder for Sam Winchester.

            Part of Blake was secretly, selfishly glad to see the hunter’s discomfort.  Blake had found an old suit that was a little too small for him, but fit Sammy well enough to pass.  The shirt was too big, so Sammy tucked it into his pants.  The dress shoes didn’t fit.  Nothing to be done about that.  At a casual glance, the hunter could pass for a lawyer, and that was the only thing that mattered right now.  It would have to do.

            Sam’s green eyes looked huge and largely lost, blinking owlishly in the glare of the camera flashes and television lights. Blake knew him well enough to recognize the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hand stayed near his pockets. Of course he was armed.  Blake was reasonably certain that Sammy wouldn’t be crazy enough to pull one of his many weapons in front of the cameras, no matter how many asshole reporters shouted insulting questions or shoved microphones in his face.  If it was Dean, Blake wouldn’t have been so sure.  But Sam Winchester, in Blake’s considered opinion, had made his own bed. He’d stunned Blake when he’d come casually walking out, waving and coming through Blake’s front gate like he belonged there.  But that was nothing to the shock Blake got when everyone present had immediately recognized Sam and called him by name.  It hadn’t taken Blake long to figure out that his wonderful, resourceful Rockstar had managed to find his world’s version of the younger Winchester brother, and that Sam was a lawyer here.  But Blake was still seething.  The only way Sam could have known about the lawyer version of himself was if he’d traded places at some point.  That meant Sam had seen Adam.  And the shaggy fucker hadn’t told Blake?!  Blake could have cheerfully throttled Sam once he’d realized that!

            At least Carson had come through for them. Once the initial shock had worn off, Blake had taken Carson aside with Sammy and quietly asked the host how much he knew about what had happened?  And Carson, always anxious to help, had kindly explained the tale Adam had told his agent, who had in turn told several others once Adam had been arrested. Blake still couldn’t believe Adam’s creativity.  Mercenaries and kidnappings and mysterious MacGuffins galore!  Blake had been hard-pressed to keep a straight face. But at least the crazy story had done the job of keeping people away from the truth.  Too bad it hadn’t kept Adam out of jail.

            “Mostly, I’m just glad you’re back, Blake,” Carson had said, hugging Blake for about the twentieth time.  “We were all worried sick!  You’re not hurt?  They just let you go?”

            “That they did,” Blake said solemnly.  He jerked a thumb back at Sam.  “Winchester here made the exchange and here I am, not much worse for the wear.  I’m just worried about Cass and Adam.”

            “And you should be,” Carson agreed.  His blue eyes were serious and full of concern. “If Castiel did even half of what he’s being accused of, then I can only imagine how bad the people who had you were!”

            “Well, they were a bunch of assholes, I won’t lie,” Blake declared solemnly, not looking at Sam.  “One in particular I went a few rounds with.  But they kept their end of the bargain, so as far as I’m concerned, I’m done with ‘em.”

            “You can’t be serious!” Carson exclaimed.  He looked pleadingly at Sam.  “Winchester, tell me Blake’s going to press charges when they find these fuckers!  They know now that Castiel’s willing to deal, so doesn’t that make Blake and Adam targets? What if someone goes after them again?!”

            “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sam assured.  “I can assure you that I fully intend to make an example of Blake’s kidnappers.  I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that they’re sent somewhere so remote and secure that neither Blake nor Adam will ever hear from them again!”

            That made Blake chuckle, even as it hurt a little. In the depth of his heart, Blake had to confess he was secretly a little glad the hunters were here.  Blake had become fond of them.  Now he’d get a chance to show them his world, and, tell the truth and shame the devil, see if maybe he could convince them to try a life away from hunting?  That fact of the matter was that the chance the hunters and their angel had just become permanent residents of Blake’s world was better than average.  And if that was the case, Blake vowed to set all four of them up in a better life than the one they’d led.  God knew they deserved it.  Who knew?  Maybe this was fate, finally giving the four a break after all they’d gone through? Blake hoped they’d be happy.

            But first, Blake wanted to see Sam Winchester squirm.

            Unfortunately, the lanky bastard was better than Blake thought.  He stood next to Blake in the gate, facing down the horde of reporters.  He’d helped Blake and Carson draft the statement that Blake read, exonerating both Adam and Cass from having any part in his abduction. Then, without bothering to warn the hunter, Blake had calmly advised the assembled reporters that he, as the traumatized victim, would now be directing any and all questions to his lawyer. He’d done it with a perfectly straight face, not even glancing over to check Sam’s reaction.  But Sammy had simply taken it in stride.  He stuck to the script they’d devised, repeating what Blake had already read, and cited “The ongoing investigation” when pressed for more details.  Even when the snarky assholes started questioning his qualifications – the real lawyer’s qualifications, that was – and insinuating that he’d only been hired for his looks, Sam would only give them a cool gaze, thank them for the compliment, and move on to the next question.  As pissed off as Blake was, he had to admit the hunter was gifted in the fine art of bullshit.  Then Sam had artfully announced he’d take one more question, answered it with a fairly convincing non-answer, promptly thanked everyone, turned on his heel, and went back inside with Blake.  “Asshole,” he hissed at Blake once they were out of earshot.  “If these shoes weren’t killing my feet right now, I’d kick your ass!”

            “Oh, fuck you!” Blake shot back.  “You switched bodies, saw Adam, and didn’t even fucking tell me?!  I should kick _your_ ass!”

            “It wasn’t my idea,” Sam whispered.  “One moment I was doing research, the next I was in a strange room feeling like my strength had been sapped, staring at Adam and a bunch of strange men!  I damned near started swinging before they could make me understand what they’d done. Then I helped them with some computer stuff and figured everything was cool until I came back to my other self’s voice screaming ‘Don’t tell him!’ in my head!  I had no idea what to think, ok?!  He left me a note telling me what he’d done to choke off that draining spell, but that was pretty much it!  What would you have done, Blake?!”

            Blake didn’t have an answer for that.  He settled for giving the hunter a dirty look. “Why’d they switch you anyway?”

            “To save your life.  If Lawyer Me hadn’t switched with me that night, choked off that spell, and convinced Crowley to help you, you would have died!”

            Blake nearly tripped.  “Wait, that was the _lawyer_ that told Dean to make that deal with Crowley?!”

            Sam nodded, looking upset.  “And he was right, Blake.  He was right all around!  If Dean hadn’t made the deal, you would have died.  A-and if I’d told Dean the truth, well, it’s Dean!  I’m reasonably certain my brother was less than thrilled about making it in the first place.  If he knew it hadn’t even been me that told him to do it, what do you think he would have done?”

            “Ok, I see your point,” Blake grumbled.  “I guess I’d have done the same thing.  But you’re still an asshole, Sammy!  I would have liked to at least known that you saw Adam, that he was alright!”

            The green eyes were serious now.  “Adam wasn’t alright, Blake.  He had big dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he hadn’t slept, and that he’d lost weight, so I’m betting he wasn’t eating. He knew you were dying, and it was affecting him!  Once we got you back on your feet, I assumed Adam was doing better, too.  But I didn’t know that!  And I couldn’t lie to you, not about him!”

            Blake grimaced.  Then he sighed.  “You’d have made a damned fine lawyer, Sam.”

            “Apparently not,” Sam muttered.  “Apparently, I’m just a pretty face!  Did you not hear that asshole talk about how underqualified I was and then not so subtly mention how many attractive men your husband suddenly has around him?!”

            “Oh, fuck those reporters!  I could tell you stories all night about the shit they’ve said about me!”  Blake clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get you settled in.  You can change out of that monkey suit, and I really want to try calling Adam!”

            “Bad idea,” Sam advised.  “If Adam’s phone is on, then the police would have found him by now.  He’s still technically under arrest, and even though he obviously didn’t murder you, they still have him on the whole prison break thing!  Until we can get in touch with Lawyer Me and hopefully get this whole mess straightened out, it’s best all around if Adam and Cass stay buried in whatever hole they’re in!”

            Blake swore.  “So what do we do?”

            “I don’t know!”  Sam threw up his hands in exasperation, his head shaking rapidly as it always did when he was upset.  “Blake, I am not actually a lawyer, remember?  I am in way over my head here!  I was in pre-law, a-and had a real shot for a job that would have netted me some practical experience, but I never made it for the interview and I never graduated.  My life happened instead!  We need the real lawyer here, and we need him now!  Where the fuck is Other Me, Blake?!  He knows I’m here, because he saw me back at the park!  Holy shit, that was like looking into some weird mirror!” He started to pace a bit.  “I’ve been bracing for him to come walking in, and then I’ll have a hell of a lot of explaining to do!  This press conference might help, give him an idea of what I’m up to. But we really, really need to get in contact with him.  I am open to suggestions!”

            Blake rubbed his chin.  “Carson might have his number?”

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “That’s great, Blake.  Are you going to ask him for it, with me standing right there?!”

            “No, ya jackass!  I’ll ask to borrow his phone, tell him mine’s dead and needs recharged.  Then I’ll just sneak a peek at his contact list.”

            Sam pinched his lips and nodded.  “Not as dumb as you look, Shelton.”

            “Yeah, I know, I get that a lot.”  He suddenly turned, pulled the startled hunter into his arms, and hugged him tightly.  “Calm down, Sammy,” he urged.  “I pulled a real dick move on you back there, and you handled it like a champ.  I’m damned proud of you!”

            Sam chuckled.  “Thanks.  You’re still an asshole.”

            “Lord knows I’ve earned the title.”  He planted a kiss on Sam’s cheek.

            Sam grumbled and pulled away with surprising ease. “Dude, this is not helping!  If Adam kisses people even half as much as you do, it’s no wonder people think Lawyer Me’s here for more than legal advice!”

            Blake scoffed.  “I’m the sexiest man alive!  I’ll kiss whoever the hell I want!”

            “...You’re  _what?!”_

            Blake pointed towards the display cases where his and Adam’s magazines were displayed, and frowned to see his was empty. “Aw, shit!  So that’s where Crowley got it!  Well, I can prove it to you later.  For now, take my word for it, I got the same title Adam has there. Besides, it’s common practice for men to kiss other men in this universe.”

            Sam looked doubtful.  “It is?”

            “Sure it is!”  Blake hooked an arm around Sam’s neck and kissed his cheek again to prove his point.  “See? It’s a fairly standard greeting.”

            “So that’s why you kissed Carson and God alone knows how many other people today?”  Sam sounded unconvinced.

            “You got it!”  Blake clapped him on the shoulder.  “Come on, buddy.  My clothes are going to be a bit big on you, and you’re probably stuck in those jeans you had on for now.  But I can give you a clean shirt, at least.  It’ll fit you better than Adam’s until we can get you some clothing.”  He chuckled, noting the look on Sam’s face. “Yeah, turn-around’s fair play, buddy! Just be glad I don’t have you hog tied in the back of my truck, you damned unicorn!”

            “I-I guess so.”  The green eyes were suddenly distressed, darting about in small, trapped circles.  “Blake, I’m gonna be honest with you.  I’m scared to death, buddy!  I don’t know where Dean or Bobby or even Cass is!  A-and even if I did, what are we gonna do?  We’ve got a month to try to find a way back, and I don’t even know where to start with that!  I don’t have access to my library here, or any other hunters...  Where do I start to look?  And what happens if I can’t figure out another way home?  What if we’re stuck here?”  He shook his head, sending his hair flying.  “Blake, what the hell am I supposed to do?!”

            Blake immediately felt bad.  “I get it.  Believe me, I get it!  I won’t lie and say it gets better, but it does get a little easier to handle after a while.  And you’re not alone, ok?  Even if worse comes to worst and y’all are stuck here forever?  I want you to know that you will always have a place with me!” He threw an arm around Sam’s shoulders and gave him a little shake.  “Calm down, ok?  You’re gonna be just fine!”

            Sam patted him.  “Thanks, but seriously, dude?  Don’t kiss me.”

            Blake moved to kiss him again.  Sammy pulled free with surprising strength, giving him a dirty look.  Blake shrugged.  “You’ll get used to it after a while.” 

            “Or I’ll punch you!”

            “Or that.”  Blake jerked a thumb towards the stairs.  “Go get changed.  When you’re done, come find me and I’ll give you a shirt.  I’ll be in the master bedroom, first door on the right up the stairs there.”

            Sam headed off.  Blake went looking for Carson.

            Adam was no actor, but Blake was.  He put on a woebegone expression, gave his friend the sad blue eyes, and Carson practically begged Blake to take his cell phone. Blake quickly found the number next to “Sam Winchester, Attorney” and programmed it into his own phone.  Then he’d immediately called him.  But it went to voice mail.  Blake managed to keep his voice steady as he asked the lawyer to please call him directly as soon as possible, that it was an emergency, it was vitally important he be contacted, could Sam please call him?  Then he hung up and stared at the phone.  The lawyer version of Sam would know how to contact Adam and Cass, probably Dean, and maybe even Bobby as well.  But until the lawyer returned Blake’s call, there was nothing more he could do.  He’d had a few missed calls, from numbers he didn’t recognize.  Probably either wrong numbers, or sales calls.  Blake deleted them.  He was in no mood to deal with it now.

            Even though he was back in the right universe, he still couldn’t reach Adam.  It was maddening.

            Blake strolled into the bedroom he shared with his husband.  For some time, he simply stood in the door, looking in.  As usual, Adam had neglected to make the bed.  The sheets and blankets were in total disarray.  One of the pillows was wrapped with Blake’s bathrobe. Its position, sideways on the bed with indentations of an arm and a leg, suggested Adam had been cuddling with it in his sleep.  The thought, and the mental picture that came with it, brought a lump to Blake’s throat. He swallowed hard, letting his gaze linger on the dirty laundry on the floor that hadn’t quite made it into the basket.  Stepping into the room, Blake picked up one of Adam’s t-shirts and moved to sit on the bed. Once there, he bundled the shirt in his hands, held it to his face, and inhaled deeply.  The scent of his husband made his heart pound.  His Rockstar.  His sweet, quirky, funny, silly, infuriating Adam.  If the bathrobed pillow was any indication, Adam had missed him.  How much had he suffered, without Blake there to look after him?  Blake had hoped that Dean’s angel would protect the little shit, but apparently Adam had managed to find a way to get himself into trouble anyway.  Typical.  Only Adam could literally be under divine protection and still manage to get himself arrested.

            Blake felt cold.  They’d arrested his beautiful Adam.  They’d taken Adam away, thrown him into a cage with criminals, murderers, rapists and thieves.  What had they done to Adam?  According to Carson, Cass had managed to avoid the police and had actually incited a riot to get Adam out.  But what had happened to Adam before that?  The idea that anyone in that prison had dared to touch his husband made Blake snarl and clench Adam’s shirt tightly to his chest.  Even in prison, Blake doubted Adam could exercise anything resembling restraint.  The snarky little loudmouth couldn’t help but draw attention to himself!  Blake recalled that multiple inmates had lost their lives in Castiel’s riot and couldn’t help but hope that, if anyone had hurt Adam, they’d numbered among the dead.  Otherwise, Blake was going to have to find a way to kill the bastards himself.

            “Blake?”

            Blake looked up from his murderous thoughts and saw Sam.  Sam was standing, topless, just inside Blake’s room, watching him.  Blake imagined the reporters who’d claimed the lawyer had been hired for his looks might have actually had a leg to stand on after all.  The hunter looked like the model for a statue of a Greek god.  Blake frowned and shook his head.  “Damn, boy!  You’re built like a brick shithouse!”

            Sam gave a slight smile.  “I’ve always been interested in fitness.  I don’t get much access to a gym, but I do work out however I can every day.”

            “Holy hell!  Let me get you a damned shirt.  You’re making me feel inadequate here!”  Blake got up, got in his dresser and quickly tossed Sam a shirt and flannel. “At least we got similar tastes.”

            “So I see,” Sam laughed.  He pulled on the clothes, shook his head at the way they hung loosely on his thinner frame, and grinned up at Blake.  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, even though Lawyer Me didn’t look much different when I looked down, I definitely felt weaker when I was in his body.  So maybe he’s not as into fitness as I am?”  He frowned.  “Of course, there could be another reason.”

            “And that would be?” Blake asked, sitting back down on the bed.

            “Never mind,” Sam said quickly.  “Doesn’t matter.  You able to reach other me, get in contact with Adam?”

            “No, and no.”  Blake cocked an eyebrow, wondering what Sam was being so evasive about? The Winchester brothers, it seemed, still played things close to the vest.  He let it drop.  “I left him a message, but I got voice mail,” he explained.  “Stands to reason, I reckon.  He’s probably got his hands full with everyone else!”

            “Especially Dean.”  Sam shook his head.  “I’m worried about my brother, Blake!  You all got slammed pretty hard!  I mean, we ended up miles away from the park!  Then I had to carry you to safety, and then you were unconscious all night! But Dean was linked to Cass when he got banished, and I think he was already messed up by whatever Crowley did to him.  What happened to my brother?  Lawyer Me had hold of him when we got taken for a ride.  Do you think that they got thrown too, the way we were?”

            “We’ll find out,” Blake soothed.  “If he’s with Other You, I’m sure he’ll care for Dean.”

            “He’d better,” Sam grumbled.

            “No offense, Sammy, but Dean’s not the one I’m most worried about.  Adam’s out there, wanted by the law, and he apparently got dragged off with Cass! What the hell happened to my husband?!”

            “Cass would have protected him,” Sam assured. “In all honesty, Adam probably felt the least of the four of you.  Cass was probably in worse shape when they landed than Adam was!  But it’s going to take time for them to get back, Blake.  When he gets banished, there’s no telling where Cass ends up, and it’s not like he can fly anymore!  They’ll need to find transportation, and with both of them in the news, wanted by the law?  Even now that you’re back, the police will be looking for them, especially Cass!”

            Blake groaned and put his face into Adam’s shirt. “Fuck me, Sammy, I need Adam!  I need him back, and safe!”

            Sam was immediately at his side.  “You’ll get him, Blake.  I promise you, Cass will take care of him!”

            “Cass is a rainbow sparkly unicorn, Sam,” Blake pointed out.  “Now you’re a unicorn, too!  And dammit, we may have just made a mistake, buddy.  Sooner or later, someone’s going to figure out that there’s two versions of you running around.  Wherever Lawyer Sam is, he obviously wasn’t the Sam Winchester who just did that press conference!”

            “What choice did we have?” Sam exclaimed.  “I should have known I’d get put in front of a camera sooner or later, but I couldn’t just hide forever.  Eventually I’d be spotted, especially in a neighborhood like this!  Your neighbors aren’t the kind to look the other way, Blake.  I could either pretend to be Lawyer Me, or get arrested as a vagrant. Neither choice was ideal.  I picked the one I liked better.”  He gave Blake a reassuring smile.  “Lawyer Me will figure something out.  I have it on very good authority that, along with being exceptionally good-looking with fabulous hair, he’s also a very clever guy!”

            Blake laughed in spite of himself.  “Alright, you win.  Let’s just hope he calls soon, with good news about Adam and your brother!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr Fun forgot how Crowley had Blake’s magazine. Thought it was funny that Blake was bullshitting Sam about the kissing thing. Thinks Blake actually is as dumb as he looks because he deleted those missed calls! If that dumb country hick hadn’t done that, he could have already talked to Adam!
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Few men in country music playfully kiss other men more than Blake Shelton, and he appears to do it primarily to irritate his friends. Blake went on tour with Trace Adkins, and went to kiss him. When Trace pushed him away, Blake announced, "I'm the Sexiest Man Alive! I'll kiss whoever I want!" And at one point, Trace retorted, "You ain't even the sexiest man on 'The Voice,' that's your boyfriend!"


	3. John Doe, Head Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up in a hospital with a head injury. Fortunately, Sammy is there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No inspection + sick = plenty of time to work on stories. Don't expect this pace to continue, though.

            Dean came around in slow stages.  He was aware of being carried, of Sammy’s voice saying something soothing that he didn’t understand.  Then he was in a strange vehicle.  Sammy was still there, holding Dean’s hand.  That was good.  But Dean couldn’t seem to open his eyes, couldn’t seem to focus.  Once again, he’d faded out.  He could hear voices, confused snippets of conversation. Mostly he heard Sammy, speaking in a low voice, telling Dean he was there, or begging Dean to please wake up. Then darkness once again.  Now, he was lying on a soft surface, and his face was being gently dabbed with a cool cloth.  It stung.  He’d been injured again.  No surprise there.  He made a small noise.

            “Shh, it’s alright, Dean,” Sammy was whispering.  “You landed pretty hard, scraped yourself up.  There’s some dried blood.  I’m only cleaning it up.”  The cloth stung again.  “There. That’s better.  I just hope you wake up soon.”

            His brother’s long fingers wormed into Dean’s hand, and Dean clutched them.  Sammy gasped.  “Dean, can you hear me?  Don’t open your eyes, just make another noise or something!”

            Dean groaned, and Sammy gave a sigh of relief.  “Oh, thank God!”

            “Sammy?”  Dean fluttered his eyes open, wincing at the pain the light caused, and a hand immediately covered them.  “Sammy, what’s going on?”

            “I told you not to open your eyes!  You’re hurt, and that could not have felt good.”

            Sammy was clearly in mother hen mode.  Dean tried to sit up, but Sammy’s other hand went to his chest, pushing him back down. “Just rest, close your eyes again. You’re safe.  I’ll take care of you, Dean.”

            Of course he would.  Usually, Dean took care of Sammy, but any time he’d needed it, usually after a hunt gone wrong, Sammy had tended to Dean.  Dean relaxed and closed his eyes, trusting his brother.  But the one voice he most longed to hear was still achingly absent.  “Sammy? Where’s Cass?  Where’s my angel?!”

            Sammy stilled.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “Something happened, and he and Adam vanished in a flash of white light.  I saw you falling through the portal and grabbed you, there was some kind of wind, and suddenly I was flat on my face behind a bush. Then the next thing I remember is getting up and finding you.  So I picked you up, and carried you to...  Dean, calm down!”

            Dean’s eyes had snapped open, only to wince at the pain it caused.  “We gotta find him!”

            Once again, Dean tried to sit up.  The world spun, and once again, Sammy forced him back down, covering his eyes with his hand.  “Lie down and close your eyes!”

            Dean swatted at him.  “Let me up! Why the hell do you keep covering my eyes?!”

            “You’ve got a head injury!  Does the light hurt them?”

            “Like an ice pick to the brain!”

            “There’s your answer.”  Keeping him down with a hand on his chest, Sammy positioned the damp cloth over Dean’s eyes.  “Now shut up, lie down, and relax!”

            “Come on, dammit!” Dean exclaimed, shoving weakly at him.  His strength was sapped and his head was spinning, but Sammy didn’t need to know that.  “I’m fine! Let me up!  I gotta find Cass!”

            The pressure of Sammy’s hand on Dean’s chest increased.  “Dean, you’re in no shape!  The doctor said that if you woke up, I needed to keep you calm and quiet, and protect your eyes until you gradually got used to the light.  That’s why the lights are off and the blinds are closed in here.  I can barely see, but it’s still hurting you when you open your eyes, isn’t it?  Yeah, that kind of kills any chance of starting a search, Dean!  A-and we don’t even know where to start looking!  You can’t help Castiel if you stand up and collapse because you’ve got a head injury!”

            Dean grimaced.  “I have a concussion?”

            “I don’t know, do I look like a doctor?!  But that’s the going theory, anyway!  They think you were attacked.  You’ve got a head injury, Dean.  Traumatic brain injury.  A-and now you’ve got the light sensitivity they warned about!  So the name of the game is gradual, alright?  You can’t rush this, Dean!  You’re hurt, and you’re not going anywhere until you’re ready, even if that means I have to sit on you and have the nurses tie you to this bed!  So lie back, shut your eyes, and relax!”

            Sammy’s hands were firm, pressing on Dean’s chest and covering his eyes with the cloth.  Dean had to admit, it did help his head.  He forced himself to relax.  “So what happened?  You said I had a road rash, but everything’s pretty vague, Sammy!”

            “I imagine so.  You’ve been unconscious all night and half the day!  You were calling me when I found you, but you were really out of it, Dean. So I picked you up, carried you to the road.  I figured I could flag down a car and get you somewhere safe!  But then you passed out, and your body started shaking, like you were having a seizure.  Scared the shit out of me!  So I called for an ambulance…”

            “Ambulance?!”  Dean’s head cleared considerably.  He pulled the cloth and Sammy’s hands away from his eyes and opened them.  Once again, the pain was intense.  Wincing and ignoring his brother’s protests, Dean looked around.  He was in a hospital bed.  “Sammy, what the hell?  I’m in a hospital?”

            “No, Dean, you’re in the Playboy Mansion.  Of course you’re in the hospital!  Where else would you be?!  They think you were attacked!”

            “Dude, what is the matter with you?!” Dean hissed.  “If you told them I was attacked, then the cops are going to want to talk to me!”

            “So?”

            “So, they’re gonna arrest me, you idiot!”

            “No, they’re not.”  Sammy’s voice was confident, and the hands on Dean’s shoulders, forcing him back down, were insistent.  “I know they’re not, because you’re not wanted by the law here.  Because we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto!”  A hand covered his eyes once more.  “Now, I told them you’re a homeless man who I found after you’d apparently been attacked.  You’re here as John Doe, and you’ve got a head injury.  You don’t remember anything about who attacked you, and we never met before today.  Stick to that story!  Got it?”

            Leave it to Sammy to come up with a convincing lie.  He’d have made such a good lawyer.  Dean gave in, relaxed in the bed, and closed his eyes again.  That was better.  The pain in his head was bad, but Sammy was right.  It was much worse with his eyes opened.  He licked his lips and almost immediately, he felt a straw touch them.  He sipped gratefully, relishing the feel of the ice water on his parched throat. “Thanks, buddy.”

            “Sure!”  Sammy took the straw away.  “I rang for the nurse.  They’re going to want to know you woke up.  Oh, here she is, hi!”

            “Hello, Mr. Winchester!  Did you need something?”

            “Yes, I did.  My friend here is awake.”

            Dean blinked open his eyes a bit and eyed the attractive nurse.  “Hey there,” he called.

            “Oh, good, you finally woke up!  What’s your name?”

            “Hagar,” Dean told her.  “Sammy Hagar.”

            She chuckled.  “Like the Red Rocker!”

            Dean grinned.  “You got it!”

            “Well, Mr. Hagar, you are a very lucky man!”  The nurse gave Sammy a fond smile.  “Mr. Winchester here found you, brought you in.  You were attacked.  Do you remember anything at all about who attacked you?”

            “No.”

            “Well, the police are going to want to talk to you anyway.  How are you feeling?  Headache?”

            “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Dean grumbled.

            “Alright, keep your eyes closed for now.  Let me just have the doctor paged, and I’ll do an assessment on you and see about getting you something for the pain.”

            “When can I go?” Dean wanted to know, closing his eyes obediently.

            “We’ll talk about that, but I don’t think it’s a good idea, not with your current symptoms.  What you’re experiencing is called photosensitivity.  It’s very common with traumatic brain injury.  The lights are off and the blinds are down, but any little bit of light is going to hurt your eyes for a while.”

            “When will it go away?”

            “Soon,” she promised.  “It’s going to take time.  Meanwhile, you can stay here, in a nice warm bed, and we’ll get you something to eat.”

            That confused Dean until he remembered he was supposed to be homeless. He gave her his best grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said humbly.  “And God bless you for your kindness!”

            “Of course!  Now let me examine you.”

            Dean patiently bore the assessment and the following visit from the doctor. The doctor had him open his eyes long enough to shine a painful light in them, something Dean considered punching him for.  Then he instructed Dean to lie still and keep his eyes closed as much as possible to give himself time to heal.  Dean listened quietly as the doctor stressed the importance of remaining in the hospital for further observation.  Almost as soon as he was finished, some police officers came.  Dean again asserted he remembered nothing about his attack.  Sammy sadly confessed that he’d arrived well after, too late to see anything.  And to Dean’s surprise, it worked, the two officers wishing Dean a speedy recovery and heading out.

            As soon as they were finally alone, Dean opened his eyes and grabbed at Sammy’s arm.  “Sammy, they are not keeping me here overnight.  I gotta find Cass!  And do we even know what happened to Blake?”

            “No. But I imagine that’s going to change very soon!”  He shook his head and chuckled.  “The detectives who were trying to accuse Adam of murdering him are about to have a lot of egg on their faces!”

            “Wait, what?  Why the hell would anyone think someone murdered Blake?!”

            Sammy grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Long story, buddy.  I’ll tell you later, but for now, suffice to say that Castiel should probably never be left alone unsupervised for any extended period of time with Adam Levine.  But it doesn’t matter.  Now that Blake’s back, hopefully things will largely straighten out on their own.”  He covered Dean’s eyes again.  “Would you please lie back and relax?”

            Dean sighed and let himself be pushed back, closing his eyes again.  “How can you know any of this?”

            “Because I saw Blake at the portal.  He made it, Dean.”

            “Well, I’m glad Blake made it through alright.  But I swear, if Adam and Cass are stuck on the other side of that portal…!”

            “I don’t think they are.  It happened so fast, but I saw Adam grab Castiel right before they both blinked away. Then I caught you, and we all got scattered to the four winds!  Dean, what the hell happened?!”

            “Crowley,” Dean growled.  “That son of a bitch!  He said he wanted a world without us and he wanted to use the portal to get it.  And we never even guessed that he wanted to use that portal to shove us through it!  Now he’s running loose, and…”  He grimaced and rubbed at his mouth.  “He used that fucking hex bag to lock me down, and Cass through me!”

            Sammy sucked in his breath.  “H-he used the hex bag?  The one he made you wear?”

            “That’s the one,” Dean growled.  “Then he banished my angel and kissed me, and I was held by that spell and too out of it from him slamming Cass to get him off of me!”

            “He...  He _kissed_ you?!”  Sammy’s voice sounded horrified.

            Dean nodded and immediately regretted it.  “Yeah, the bastard banished my angel, stole a kiss from me, and then trapped us all over here!”  He rubbed at his mouth again.  “I’m ganking his ass first chance I get, Sammy!”

            “I’d be willing to hold him while you did it, Dean!  Unfortunately, that’s going to be difficult, with you stuck here. But we can’t change it now.”  

            Dean growled quietly to himself.  Something was still wrong.  Something was off about the sequence of events Sammy had just relayed to him. But his head hurt too much for him to think straight enough to puzzle it out.

            Sammy sighed.  “I just don’t understand what happened to Castiel!  You said he was banished?”

            “Crowley’s doing again!  That bastard branded an angel banishing sigil onto his own chest, activated it, and then used that stupid hex bag he made me wear to zap my angel away!”  Dean squeezed his eyes shut and put an arm over them, trying to calm the pounding in his head. 

            “That is some serious dedication on Crowley’s part, I suppose,” Sammy said slowly. “He was so determined to banish Castiel that he branded a sigil into his own chest!  But at least now I understand what’s wrong with you.  The two of you were still linked because you were trying to pull Castiel through.  So when Crowley used that link to banish him, well, we were warned that there was a risk to letting the four of you link up.  The feedback from that link being strained is what hurt you.”

            “Crowley used that link to banish Cass,” Dean confirmed.  “That’s why he made me wear the hex bag!  And I tried, Sammy!  I tried so hard to hold onto Cass, but he must have realized he was dragging me and tore the links apart.  That’s why I have no idea where he is or what happened to him!”  He pounded a fist into the bed.  “Cass got banished, and I got blasted halfway to east bejeebers! Hell, it’s a wonder I’m in as good a shape as I am!”

            “What about Adam and Blake?  Adam was touching Castiel when he got hit!”

            “Then he probably went flying right along with Cass,” Dean grumbled.  “Which means, since Blake was linked with Adam, that Blake probably got the boot as well!  Must have been like bowling a strike, all of us flying in every direction!  And apparently, you got taken for a ride, too! You were touching me, so you got yoinked off with me!”  He sighed, reaching for his brother.  “Dammit, Sammy, I’m sorry you got sucked into this.  And I’m more sorry that you’re stuck here with us!  If you hadn’t been touching me, you might have been able to jump back through!”

            “Jump back through?” Sammy echoed, sounding confused.

            “Yeah.”  Dean rubbed at his face.  He peered out through his lashes, and then opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. The pain was still there, but Dean decided he could tolerate it for short periods of time.  He glanced over at Sammy and gave him a small smile.  “I get it, man, and I love you for it, little brother.  I probably couldn’t have gone back through without you, either!  But if at least one of us was still back in our own universe, he could have worked on finding a way to bring the other back!  Hey, I don’t suppose Bobby’s still back there?”

            “Bobby?”  Sammy looked confused.  “Honestly, Dean, everything happened so fast that I don’t know what happened after I grabbed you.  You were barely conscious and in a lot of pain!  That kind of held my attention.”

            Dean closed his eyes again.  The longer they were open, the worse his head ached.  Stupid doctors!  How the hell was he supposed to find his angel if he had to walk around with his eyes closed?!  “This is a mess, Sammy,” he declared.  “One hell of a mess!  Now we’re stuck in Blake’s world, and Crowley’s got free reign to do whatever he and his crazy mother see fit!”

            “Is that so bad?”

            Dean sputtered and squinted at his brother.  “Seriously?!”

            “Yes, I’m very serious!” Sammy clutched at his hand.  “Dean, y-you’re over here now, and so is Castiel!  I’ll help you find each other.  Then you don’t have to be a hunter anymore!  You could have a normal life, work as a mechanic or go to school if you wanted, and just settle down with Castiel, get a little house? Or, um, y-you could hunt here,” he added, seeing the look on Dean’s face.  “The point is, you’re stuck here, right?  So, why not make the best of it?”

            Dean irritably pulled his hand free.  “Sammy, that is a pipe dream that you and I do not get to have.  We’re hunters!  That’s what we are!  We’re not the guys who get to have a house with hardwood floors and a white picket fence, ok?  And we sure as hell don’t get a wife and kids!”

            Sammy’s voice sounded odd.  “Just think about it, ok, Dean?  We’ll work on how to open another portal.  But even if we figure something else out, it’s gotta be on the full moon, right?  So, it’s going to be at least twenty-seven days before we can do anything!”

            “Yeah, which gives us twenty-seven days to figure out how to get the hell out of this stupid-ass universe!”

            “Or, twenty-seven days to give this universe a chance!” Sammy urged.  He clutched Dean’s arm.  “You’ve got a chance to decide for yourself, Dean!  We’ll find Castiel, and just take it one day at a time. B-but right now, I really think you should stay here and rest.  The doctor…” Sammy grimaced, seeing Dean throw the covers aside and squint in dismay at the hospital gown he was wearing. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

            “Soon as you help me find my clothes!  I keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes and my head pounds so much I’m ready to throw up, so I’m gonna need your help.”  Dean scowled at his knees.  “At least they left my underwear on.”

            “Oh, here!” Sammy grumbled, tossing Dean his coat.  “Put that on and I’ll help you into the bathroom to get dressed. But this is stupid, Dean.  You really think you can walk?!”

            “Watch me!”  Dean irritably pulled his familiar battered coat on.  He felt much less exposed now.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, clutched at the rail until the dizziness passed, and glared at his brother, blinking in the dim light in the room. “What the hell, Sammy?  Why’d you let them undress me?!”

            “I undressed you,” Sammy explained patiently.  “And I took the, um, shall we say, extra hardware?”

            Dean grinned.  “You got my stuff?”

            “Every blade, gun, and brass knuckle,” Sammy assured.  “Do me a favor, ok?  You’ve been unconscious for a long time, and you must be starving.  They’re going to be bringing you something to eat soon. Stay for lunch while I get things set up, and I’ll come back for you.  Then will you please just let me take care of you for at least a day before you go charging out looking for our angel?  You’re not exactly light, Dean!  My back is still sore from carrying you!  I’d prefer not to have to carry you again because you passed out pushing yourself too hard!”

            Dean gave him a dirty look.

            Sammy gave him the bitch face.

            Dean scowled.  “Bitch!”

            “Jerk!”  And just like that, the bitch face was gone, replaced by an expression Dean had rarely seen on his brother before.  And the next thing Dean knew, he was in Sammy’s arms, being hugged tightly.  “I’m glad you’re alright,” Sammy said gruffly. “And I’m so glad you’re here!”

            “Yeah, well, I’m not staying in this joint much longer, so hurry it up, will you?” Dean grumbled, awkwardly patting him.  “I’ll choke down the hospital food, but you’d better get me…”  He paused, blinking in shock as Sammy pulled away and Dean got a look at his face in the dim light.  “Dude, are you crying?!”

            Sammy mopped at his eyes with his sleeve.  “Shut up!”

            Dean immediately felt bad.  “Hey, Sammy?” he said softly, reaching for his brother’s hand.  “It’s ok.  Yeah, we’re stuck in the wrong universe, we’re not sure where Cass else is, and I kind of feel like I did when we got hit by that truck.  But we’re ok, and whatever comes, we’ll figure it out!  Because we’re together, alright?”  He smiled, squeezing his brother’s hand.  “You and me, Sammy!  The Winchester brothers haven’t been beat yet, and we’re not going to start now!  Got it?”

            Sammy sobbed, clutched Dean’s hand with both of his, held it to his chest, and actually _sobbed!_   Dean would have laughed had anyone told him that his little brother would ever be here, clinging to his hand and bawling in a hospital room when everything was perfectly fine.  But here Sammy was, struggling to control his emotions, his green eyes wet with tears.  It took him two tries before Sammy was able to manage speaking.  “Y-you and me, Dean,” he declared, seeming to force himself to release Dean’s hand.  “That’s right.  You and me. Now shut up, rest, and eat hospital food.  I’ll be back real soon, alright?”

            “Sure, Sammy.”  Dean knew his entire face was a question mark as Sammy shoved him back into the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.  His head was spinning now from more than his head injury.  _Holy shit, how bad was I?  He’s acting like I almost died!_   Worry began to gnaw at him.  Something was off.  Something was definitely wrong with Sammy.  Something was wrong with Sammy’s story, too, but Dean had no idea what it could be.  Why would his brother lie to him?  From what he could tell, Sammy was fine, and so was Dean.  They weren’t even in the ICU, and while traumatic brain injury sounded scary, the doctor said he’d be fine!  So why was Sammy acting like this?  What the hell was going on?

            One way or another, Dean intended to find out.  But for now, he was forced to admit his brother was right.  There was no way he could go and start searching for his angel now.  His head throbbed, making his stomach feel nauseated.  Fine.  He’d do what Sammy asked, and together they would find Cass.  _Hang on, angel,_ he sent.  _I’m coming for you!_

            Wherever Cass was, Dean hoped he’d heard.  With a sigh, Dean lay back in the hospital bed, closed his eyes, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thought it was cool that Lawyer Sam had Dean! Had not figured that out at the end of the first story. Thinks it’s not smart of Lawyer Sam to let Dean think he’s his brother, though. That’s going to bite him in the ass.
> 
> Dean's symptoms I have experienced first hand. Photosensitivity is anything but fun!


	4. Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroon 5 finds themselves abducted at gunpoint by a lunatic from another dimension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by our Nutcracker! This might be her best one yet!

            “How did we get here?” Sam Farrar complained. “How the fuck did we get here?!”

            “I would love to know the answer to that, Matt,” PJ added.  “How, exactly, did you manage to negotiate our way into seven guys crowded into a rented trailer out in Bumfuck Egypt, with the six of us taking orders from that old bastard?!”

            “Um, he did have a gun?”

            “Yeah, but he never took it back out after he put it away that last time.”

            “It was still there!”

            “That old fucker can shoot, too!”

            “I don’t want to be like Ketch.”

            “Still, you could have at least negotiated a bit better.”

            “Yeah, seriously, Matt!”

            “All you said was ‘Yes, sir!’ and ‘No, sir!’ after he started cussing you out, and then he made us drop our cell phones in the trash and get in the cars, and now here we are!”

            “Bastard took all our money, too!”

            “The money’s not hard to replace, but my cell phone is a different story!”

            “I had a lot of important shit on my phone!”

            “Me, too!”

            “You’re buying me a new one, Matt!”

            “You know what?  Fuck you guys!” Matt grumbled.  “We all just got kidnapped by a psychopathic monster hunter with a loaded gun, and you’re bitching at me because I didn’t negotiate well?!  Let’s see you do better!  You were there, same as I!”  He shuddered.  “I have never had anyone rip me a new asshole the way Singer did, man, not our agent, not our manager, not the producers or the fucking stage managers…  Hell, my old man never talked to me the way he did!”

            “He has a very colorful vocabulary,” Jesse noted. “I was so floored by the way he ripped into Matt that I was just kind of standing there dumbfounded.  It took me a minute when he said, ‘And besides, I’m the guy with the gun’ before it registered!”   He shook his head.  “I cannot believe he just robbed and kidnapped all six of us!”

            “What I don’t get is why you assholes followed us,” PJ said.  “Matt and Sam and I were all in the same vehicle as a crazy guy from another universe with a bad mouth, a worse attitude, and a loaded gun!  We were pretty screwed, but you guys just followed behind us the whole way out here!  Why the hell didn’t you take off?!”

            “You’re welcome for not ditching your sorry asses!”

            “Fuck you, PJ, we should have just let him take you and gone fishing!”

            “Next time someone kidnaps you, you’re on your own!”

            PJ raised his hands.  “Point taken.”

            Mickey was absently drumming his fingers on the wobbly table, looking agitated.  James was at the window, looking out the dirty pane.  “Hey guys, I think the guy in the red trailer is screwing the lady in the blue trailer,” he announced.  “Her husband’s gonna shit when he finds out!”

            “James, would you forget the trailer park soap opera for a moment?  I seriously want an answer!” Mickey finally exploded.  “Sam asked a good question.  How the hell did this happen?  Bad enough we all meekly ditched our phones, handed over our money, and drove off on command!  But how the actual fuck did we all end up blindly following that son of a bitch into a rented trailer in a damned drug-infested trailer park?!  How the hell did a guy from another fucking universe even _find_ this place?!  You know what, never mind that, back to my original question.  How did we let this happen?  It’s not like he tied us up, so why didn’t we run, or try to fight back, or do anything besides just put our heads down and follow orders?!  Six guys, one old fucker with a gun, and not one of us made a move?!”

            “Because no one else wanted to even say anything after Singer handed me my ass on a platter!” Matt exclaimed.  “You guys, your nuts retracted so far up into your bellies you damned near turned into women!”

            “Least you still have ‘em.”

            Everyone looked up as Singer himself came into the room. He had a cooler in one hand, and the can of spray paint he’d stolen from a maintenance shed last night in the other. There was cold beer in the cooler, which he began passing out.  Typical. Breakfast this morning was cold cereal, but somehow, Singer had gotten his hands on beer.

            Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  “Oh, thank God, I need one of those!  Gimme the fucking beer!”

            “Give me the fucking beer, please!” Singer corrected.

            Sam eyed him.  “Um, give me the fucking beer, please?”

            Singer handed him the beer.  “I want you to know, I’m proud of you boys,” he began. “Now I know you’re a rock band, not hunters.  And I know I basically just kidnapped the lot of you at gunpoint...”

            “Yeah,” James grumbled, staring at his beer. “You kind of did, dude!”

            “Yeah, my wife’s gonna shit!”

            “What’s our agent going to say?”

            “What’s my mom going to say?!”

            “The cops are gonna go apeshit!”

            “The whole world and its great uncle is out looking for Castiel and Adam Levine, and now Adam’s band disappears?!”

            “Yeah, you seriously just created a major shitstorm, dude!”

            “Alright, calm down!” Singer yelled over the din. “Balls, you boys!  Now PJ, you told me in the car that the FBI was watching you, and it freaked you out a bit that Ketch could get them to look the other way long enough for the six of you to get out to that park, right?  That means no one knows you were there!  So calm down, would you?  The cops ain’t coming for ya!”

            The group stilled, and Singer rolled his eyes. “Oh, knock it off!  I didn’t hurt you, and I ain’t gonna.  But you idjits are all in way over your heads here, especially if that asshole Ketch is involved, so I’m the best chance you’ve got right now!”  He nodded, looking sternly at the group.  “Like I said, I’m proud of how you all handled yourselves here.  You fell in line and followed orders, and that was the best thing for you to do.  Hell, you likely had no idea any of this shit was real until you met Cass, and here you are, stepping up to the bat!  Now…”

            PJ raised his hand, looking like a kid in school. When Singer cocked an eyebrow at him, he said, “May I ask you a question?  Why do you call our angel ‘Cass?’  His name’s Castiel!  Isn’t that rude, disrespectful?  Shortening his name like that?”

            Singer shrugged.  “Dean called him that.”

            “I’m not sure why that’s relevant?”

            “You’ve clearly never met Dean.  Moving on.  You boys are obviously going to need a lot of training, some clearly more than others. But I’m positive that we can work together and make this work, because there isn’t any other choice!  You go back out there, Ketch will have you sure as shit, and try to use you to get to Adam and Castiel.  Safest place for you is right here.”  He clapped his hands together.  “Now, you’ve all got skills you can bring to the table, some you probably didn’t even know you had.  You’re a rock band, so I assume you all play instruments or something.  What else can you do?”

            James raised his hand.  “Sam’s good with computers!” he announced.  “He was able to find the Winchesters in this world.”

            “Yeah, but Matt sucks with anything to do with technology,” Jesse announced.  “He’s kind of a dinosaur!  He plays the drums, and he’s much better at pounding in nails or something than anything techy.”

            “Fuck you, you skinny runt!” Matt growled. “Sam’s got enough nerd for all of us.” He looked at Singer and indicated Jesse. “Meet our resident hippy.  Jesse’s into spiritual healing and that kind of thing, but don’t know if any of it’s valid?”

            “Sure it’s valid!” Singer declared.  “The shit we deal with, that sort of expertise might come in handy someday.”

            Jesse brightened.  “Mickey’s got some connections with the occult,” he announced. “He was able to get some witches to come talk to us, although I’ve had cause to regret that a bit.  And PJ’s the son of a Baptist minister, so he’s spiritual, too, and so’s James because he’s a Mormon!”

            “Holy fuck, Jesse!” Mickey yelled.  “Why don’t you just tell him our ATM pin numbers while you’re at it?!”

            Jesse seemed to shrink.  Singer scowled at Mickey, who sat back, sullen and silent.

            Sam was raising his hand now.  Singer nodded at him.

            “I know you told us to ditch all our phones, but our Sam Winchester gave me this, just in case we needed something that couldn’t be traced.”  Sam produced a prepaid cell phone.  “I’ve been calling, but it just goes straight to voice mail!”

            “Did you try Blake?” James asked.

            “Yes, genius, I tried Blake, but you know Blake won’t answer if it’s a number he doesn’t recognize!  So I’ve mostly been focusing on Adam, Castiel, and Winchester. And they’re not answering!  I’ve been calling all this morning through to lunch!  Same thing!”

            Everyone stared at him.  “Wait, you had a phone all this time, and you didn’t call for help?!” PJ asked, incredulous.

            “Dude, I was sitting right next to Singer in the back seat of the car!” Sam protested.  “I didn’t want shot!”

            “What about when we got here?”

            “Did you not just see me pull it out of my jacket pocket?  These pants don’t have pockets, so where was I going to keep it overnight?  It stayed in my jacket, my jacket was on the rack by the door, and I spent the night on the floor clear on the other side of the room!”

            “How about this morning?”

            “Well, with all the excitement about the full moon, I didn’t sleep the night before last, so I nodded off in the car,” Sam confessed.  “By the time we got here, I didn’t know where I was!  This thing’s ancient.  It doesn’t have built-in GPS.”

            Matt sighed loudly.  “For fuck’s sake, Sammy, why didn’t you just ask?!  I could have told you where we are!”

            “You don’t even have a phone, Matt!  How the hell could you know where we are?”

            “Because I have eyes, dumbass!  I was driving, and they’re called ‘road signs.’  I know exactly where we are!”

            “Oh, sure, you tell me that now!” Sam yelled, throwing his hands into the air.

            Matt rolled his eyes.  “You’re worse than the damned millennials!”

            “Sorry, no one ever kidnapped me before, ok?! I’m not up on the protocol!”

            That produced a loud groan from his bandmates.

            “The protocol is to try to call for help!”

            “Holy shit, Sammy!”

            “Book smart is so not street smart!”

            “You should have called for help!”

            “Who, exactly, would you like to call for help?” Bobby called, pinching the bridge of his nose and silently praying for patience.  “The police are going to be monitoring all your known acquaintances, but the police aren’t your biggest problem!  If Ketch and the British Men of Letters are involved, and those bastards are anything like they are in my universe?  Then as soon as Ketch figures out my boys and I are stuck over here, he’s more likely than anything else to bring all four of us in!  Then he’ll toss us into a lab or a cave somewhere and we’ll never see the light of day!”  He shook his head.  “Now you don’t know me, but you sure as hell know Cass!  There’s even a chance that son of a bitch will go after _Blake!_   That what you want?!  Then by all means, you go right ahead and just dial 911, and I’ll give you this address myself!”

            That finally silenced the group.

            Singer rolled his eyes.  “You all know you ain’t in any real trouble anyway,” he pointed out. “For heaven’s sake, if you really wanted loose, you could have run off while I was arguing with that greedy bastard of a landlord over the price of this trailer, or when I went for supplies, or at any time during the night!  Hell, you could have run off this morning while I was putting up the wards! So why are you all still here, huh?”

            _“Because I’m scared!”_ Matt roared.  “In the last couple of weeks, I found out that angels exist and magic is real and all the shit I used to be scared of when I was a kid is actually out there! And all of a sudden, I’m right back to being afraid to put my arms and legs over the side of the bed, for fear something under it will sink its teeth into me!  What the hell do I tell my family, huh?  How do I tell the kids that there really might be a boogieman in the closet?  I’m not a hunter!  I’m just a man, and I have no idea how to defend them, or myself!  We had Castiel, an actual _angel_ with us, and fucking Ketch locked his powers away!  Then last night, right when I thought we were safe, our angel got blasted to fuck only knows where, we can’t find Adam, we can’t find Blake, we can’t even find our motherfucking _lawyer_ and I’m scared!  I’m scared to go home and bring this shit back to my family.  I’m scared to go back to the ranch and get caught by Ketch or one of those monsters that those Men of Letters hunters were keeping off of us.  I don’t know where to go, I don’t know what to do, the shit just keeps getting worse, and right now, the only one around who might be able to help me is a potty mouthed lunatic from another dimension who just kidnapped me!  So yeah, I’ll take my chances with the gun, because at least a gun is something I can understand.  I don’t understand any of this other shit, and I!  Am fucking!  _Scared!”_

            Shocked silence.  The band froze, letting the truth of what their oldest member had just said sink in.  Faces paled. Jesse wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.  Sam stared at the phone in his hand, watching it tremble as his hand shook.  James was breathing hard.  PJ clenched the edge of the table.  And Mickey rocked rapidly back and forth.

            “Boys?”  Singer’s voice was suddenly gentle.  “What you’re feeling right now, I’ve seen a hundred times before.  It really does a number on your whole perspective, when you realize for the first time what’s really out there.  Messes up your whole world view.  That’s why, at least in my universe, we try to keep it under wraps. The supernatural world cost me my wife, and any chance I might have had at a normal life, because I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t rest knowing what was out there and not doing everything I could to fight that darkness back!  But I’m an ex-soldier.  You boys?  You’re a rock band!  It’s no surprise if you’re scared.  I’d like to tell you that you’ll never have to fight.  But that would be a damned lie.  Now you know, there’s no going back.  Now all I can do is teach you how to protect yourselves.  By the time this is over, you’ll be putting salt on every window, drawing devil’s traps under the welcome mats, and sleeping with a crucifix in a glass of water and a weapon under your bed, just like I do.  Just like every hunter I’ve ever known!”  His eyes moved to Matt, his face crinkling into a smile. “There’s no shame in admitting you’re afraid,” he declared.  “Takes a lot of guts to admit it, actually.  You got every reason to be afraid, especially if you got a family. Because you’re right, Matt. Everything you said?  You’re right.”

            Matt looked at him.  “Help us,” he said quietly.

 

            Singer nodded.  “That’s why I took you.  Soon as I realized you boys were innocent, I knew I had to get you out of there, away from Ketch.  You didn’t ask for this, you sure as hell don’t deserve it and it’s clear you’re not ready for it.  But that don’t matter, because you’re in it.  Now, I can’t make you any promises except for one – I will fight to my dying breath to protect you.  Alright?”

            Some of the tension eased in the room.  Matt even managed a small smile.

            Singer clapped him on the shoulder.  Then he began to pace.  “Let’s get down to business.  My boys all got slammed pretty hard when Cass got banished, and the fact that the portal went down means their links ended up broken,” he mused as six solemn sets of eyes followed him.  “They probably got thrown, both mentally and physically.  That might be why they’re not answering.  Phones could have been broken.  If that’s the case, then they would have had to pick up new ones.  Sam, you get any calls from numbers you didn’t recognize?”

            “I put it on do not disturb, so it wouldn’t make any sound,” Sam confessed.  “I was afraid you’d take it from me.  But yeah, there’s a number on there I don’t know.  I’ll send them a text, see who it is.”

            “Maybe that will help.  Otherwise, we’ll give everyone a little time, and then if we still don’t hear from ‘em, we’ll start actively searching.  Meanwhile, Sam?  You get internet on that thing?”

            Sam blinked.  “Yeah, dude, it’s a cell phone!”

            “He’d never take it if it didn’t,” Matt explained, giving Singer a knowing look.  “If Sam couldn’t connect to the internet at least hourly, I think he’d go through withdrawal!”

            Singer nodded in understanding.  “Why don’t you check into hospital admissions, just in case, then?”

            “Right!”  Sam immediately moved to sit on the couch and got busy on his phone.

            “Alright.  Matt, if you’re good with pounding things in, you can help me make this place a bit more secure,” Singer directed.  “James, you keep a watch for anyone paying too much attention to us and let me know.”

            “Yes, sir!”

            “On it!”

            Jesse raised his hand.  “Speaking of things we could bring to the table, we’re a fairly popular band, Mr. Singer, with significant financial resources.  We’ve got enough money that we could maybe rent a decent house, instead of staying this shitty trailer?  That bathroom alone is…”

            “Oh, by all means, go right ahead!  In fact, why don’t you just rent a Hollywood mansion? Because of course, Ketch and his asshole buddies wouldn’t notice that, would they?” Singer spat.  “Balls!  The idea is to stay hidden, ya idjit!  You might get a chance to run to an ATM and withdraw something if you move quick, and you do it somewhere that you can’t be traced back here.  But I guarantee he’ll be all over your credit cards and all your accounts!  You want that bastard knocking at our door?!”

            Someone knocked at the door, and everyone froze.

            Singer pulled his pistol and gestured.  “Get back behind me, boys,” he ordered quietly. “James, get away from the window!”

            But James was standing as if frozen, staring wide-eyed out the window.  Before anyone else could say a word, he ran to the door, threw it open, and pounced on the man waiting outside.  “Adam! Holy shit, dude, where have you been?!”

            Adam was oddly stiff.  He looked anxious, his hazel eyes glancing rapidly about.  His hands were shoved into the pockets of a light-colored trench coat.  “Let me in, James.  Quickly!”

            James let him go.  Adam followed his bandmate into the trailer, pulled the door closed, and locked it.  Then he turned and stared straight down the barrel of Singer’s weapon.  His hazel eyes lingered on it, and then moved up. “You really don’t want to do that,” he announced.

            Singer never wavered.  He seized James by the arm and dragged the guitarist back behind himself with the rest of the band.  Then he narrowed his eyes at their visitor.  “You look like Adam Levine from my world,” he declared, “but how the hell did you find us?  And why are you wearing Cass’s trench coat?”

            “It’s kind of the same answer.”  Adam’s eyes flicked around.  “What’s going on in here?”

            “Adam, this is Bobby Singer,” James called carefully. His eyes were moving between his front man and the hunter.  “Castiel mentioned him, remember?  He, well, kidnapped us, but never mind that.  He’s here to help!”

            “And I’m not putting this gun down until I’m sure you’re not going to hurt any of us,” Singer growled.

            Adam sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m not going to hurt you.  I’ve spent all morning searching for you, and then just when I was getting close, you all disappeared!”  He shook his head.  “I know you all have questions.  And I can answer them, if everyone promises to stay calm?”

            “No way I’m calm now!”

            “I think I’m freaking out!”

            “I’m definitely freaking out!”

            “I wasn’t freaking out before, but now I am!”

            Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Alright.  Fine.  Here’s your answer.”  He looked up, revealing glowing, blue-white eyes.  And then a set of shadowy wings opened on his back.  “Satisfied?” he called.  “That’s also how I found you!  I followed you to this trailer park, but I couldn’t pinpoint what trailer you were in.  So I knocked on the door of the one with all the wardings.”

            Singer snorted, glancing at his can of spray paint. “I did the devil’s trap last night, but I just finished the angel wardings this morning.”

            “I see.”  Adam closed his wings and let his eyes return to normal.  Then he took in the stunned expressions of the band and sighed again.  “It’s a long story.  And if everyone would please just calm down, put their weapons away, and let me tell it? I’ll tell you everything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's comment? “Whatever. That’s all I have to say.” Thought it was really funny that Bobby bossed the band around. Laughed really hard at them fighting among themselves and how Bobby kidnapped them more because he yelled at them than because of his gun. “That was funny as fuck!” Liked that it finally sank in to them just how deep they’re really in it now.


	5. The Men Of Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Ketch addresses the leaders of the American hunters, and offers them a lucrative bounty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually surprised I got this up tonight. Only happened after a nap. This is going to be a rough week or two. Bear with me! I have never left a story unfinished and don't intend to start now!

            Ketch stared silently at the picture on the monitor.  The angel was wearing a jacket and sunglasses, in his role as “bodyguard” for Adam Levine and his band.  Ketch could appreciate the irony.  Talk about a guardian angel!  He would have had little trouble defending the band from the sniper that had attacked them.  Little wonder the band had become so attached to him.  But it made no difference.  By failing to pass through the portal, the angel had signed his own warrant.  Now, he’d be hunted as the monster he was.

            In truth, Ketch had anticipated something like this.  He should have simply taken the angel in as soon as he’d been restrained.  Well, nothing for it now.  Ketch’s eyes moved again over the picture, one of several in his file.  By now, Ketch had memorized every inch of the angel’s features.  He knew the messy hair, the blue eyes, the face and figure as well as he knew his own face.

            Likewise, the file labeled “Castiel – Angel, Alt. Reality” was burned into his memory.  He’d soaked up the information inside like a sponge, spending hours memorizing every known fact.  Ketch knew all there was to know about the angel, except what he wanted to know most. “Where are you?” he mused aloud, his eyes locked to the picture.  “Where the bloody hell did you land?”

            Just behind Ketch and to his right, his assistant cleared his throat.  “Sir?” he began.  “I’ve got those files you asked for.”

            “Yes, set them down,” Ketch called without looking away from the angel’s picture. “I assume you’ve loaded the details into the computers, as well, Charles?  Everything’s ready for the presentation?”

            “Yes, sir.”  Charles paused, glancing at Ketch’s monitor.  “Um, Mr. Ketch, sir?  You said you wanted to announce the bounty?”

            Ketch hummed.  “That’s right, I did,” he recalled.  “You have my stipulations on this one?”

            “Y-yes, sir.  And I meant to ask you, are you sure about this?  I mean, it’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?”

            “Everything about this hunt is unusual.”  Ketch leaned back and rubbed at his chin.  “This angel, he’s the most powerful monster the Men of Letters have ever attempted!  While he’s far from the first angel we’ve encountered, we’ve always had to tread lightly with the hosts of Heaven.  But this one? He has no ties to Heaven, or Hell, or Earth.  He is the very definition of rogue!”

            “But sir, according to the files, he’s never attacked anyone unprovoked, right? Don’t you think maybe...?”

            “When you consider it, I really should be sacked for not taking him in right away,” Ketch sighed, paying no real attention to his assistant.  “It’s quite enough that he’s an angel, and a rogue. But a rogue angel from another dimension?”  He shook his head.  Then he got to his feet, straightening his clothing.  “I’m announcing this bounty with the others.  Have the hunter captains gathered?”

            “Yes, they have, but, um, Mr. Ketch?” Charles dared timidly.  “Sir, have you spoken with the motherhouse in London about this?  Protocol is that this level of involvement from hunters, and this high a bounty, can only happen when we’re faced with a monster that is proven to be a direct and imminent threat.  But from what I can tell, this angel hasn’t bothered anyone unless someone tries to hurt his friends!  Are you sure the motherhouse is ok with this?  When they find out you’ve authorized...”

            Ketch slapped his hand down on the desk, making the assistant jump.  “You worry about completing your tasks as I’ve assigned them,” he snapped.  “I will worry about London!  Now get back to work!”

            “Yes sir, Mr. Ketch!”  Charles scurried off, looking like a roach fleeing light.

            Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose.  It wouldn’t do to be anything but calm while he announced these new bounties. It didn’t help that his assistant was probably right.  The motherhouse in London would quite likely demand an explanation on all of these new bounties, especially the angel’s.  But he was prepared.  He’d already typed up his arguments, and they were ready to send at the click of a button. London could say whatever they wished. This was America, after all, and he, Arthur Ketch, was in charge here.

            Ketch headed outside for a bit of fresh air, wanting time to collect his thoughts.  He paused just outside while he straightened his tie and fastened his cuff links, ready to face the hunter captains.  Appearance was important, especially when one was dealing with the leaders of American hunters.  As a whole, the hunters in this country were a bunch of uncivilized savages.  Getting them to fall in line had taken a tremendous effort.  Keeping them there was nearly as difficult.  And once this bit of news went out, he knew, it would take every bit of influence and power that he had to remain in control.  He needed to remind them all of exactly who he was.  Step one was looking the part.  Now step two would be to present these new bounties in a clinical, professional manner, as if they were just ordinary bounties.  And naturally, step three would be to immediately and decisively squash any and all objections that might rise.

            Prepared, Ketch headed back in.  The hunter captains were gathered in the main conference room, already seated and grumbling amongst themselves.  They immediately quieted when they noticed Ketch.  Good.  “Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon,” he began.  “I want to thank those of you who have been present these past few weeks, and the rest for arriving here so promptly.”

            “Did we have a choice?” someone muttered.

            Ketch made his gaze cool.  “I’m aware that your recent assignments likely made very little sense to you, especially those who were not directly involved,” he continued.  “That is why I’ve asked you all here today.  It’s time to let you all know just what it is you’ve been working so hard to protect.”  He pulled his remote from his pocket and clicked on the large monitor behind him.  “This is Castiel,” he began.  “I see by the looks on many of your faces that you recognize him.  Yes, this is the famous bodyguard for this gentleman, Adam Levine.”

            He brought a picture of Levine to the monitor.  “I suspect you’re all aware of the recent news about both of them, the arrest and subsequent riot and prison break?  What you don’t know is that, had the prison break not happened, we would have been breaking Levine out today.  Because his so-called bodyguard, this Castiel?  Is actually a rogue angel.”  Ketch paused, letting the gasps of surprise pass.  “And more, this is a rogue angel from another universe, apparently here on accident.”

            Ketch brought up a new picture.  “Here is what we know.  The case first came to our attention because our agents saw these spell glyphs at the crime scene of Levine and Shelton’s home, after Shelton’s apparent abduction,” he continued.  “We’ve analyzed them, and they appear to be a spell for temporarily opening an interdimensional portal.  While we can only speculate on what happened, it seems clear that something went wrong, resulting in the angel failing to pass through the portal, while Levine’s husband, Blake Shelton, passed through instead.”

            Blake’s picture now graced the screen.  “For the past lunar month, it’s believed that Mr. Shelton remained in the angel’s home reality, while the angel stayed with Levine.  And during that time, the angel revealed his status as a monster multiple times to multiple people.  He was shot several times and killed a sniper at Levine’s benefit concert. We interviewed a man who claims he got into a fight with Levine, and was actually healed by the angel as a means of protecting Levine from prosecution.  Then of course, you’re all aware of Levine’s eventual imprisonment and subsequent escape with the angel’s assistance.  It appears that the angel has grown quite attached to Levine, for reasons that are not quite clear.  During that escape, the angel attacked and murdered several people, including multiple inmates and a prison guard.  At that point, I personally made contact.  And while I did succeed in getting an Enochian manacle on the angel to control his powers, it seems I underestimated Levine.  He managed to free the angel again, and that cost multiple lives, including one of our own.  Ladies and gentlemen, this angel is a proven threat, and it’s clear that Adam Levine is a willing accomplice.  Bear that in mind.  Levine may be the key to discovering the angel’s whereabouts.  But I digress.”

            Ketch put the angel’s picture back up on the screen.  “After the incident at the safe house, I again intervened, this time to assist in opening a portal back to the angel’s own universe, with the objective of returning Shelton and ensuring that the angel passed back through. Last night, during the full moon, I met with Levine, the angel, their lawyer, and Levine’s band.  I personally cast the spell to open this portal, and saw Shelton safely return.  But I’m afraid, to my shame, that I must admit I was deceived.  The angel did not pass through.  Instead, he actually drew three others through to this side before he escaped with two of them, as well as Shelton and Levine, and Levine’s lawyer. That, unfortunately, is why I’ve been forced to call this meeting today.”

            “Need us to mop up the mess you made, Ketch?” another hunter called.

            “Yes,” Ketch replied with no trace of shame.  “I made a grave mistake, and I’ve called all of you, the leaders of the American hunters, here today to help me to correct that mistake.  And I assure you, I will make it worth your while.”

            Now he had their attention.  Nothing like the idea of a high bounty to get the attention of hunters.  Ketch suppressed a smile, looking at his notes. “Some of the bounties I’m about to show you may surprise you,” he began.  “It was certainly a shock to me!  But when you consider that this is an angel from an alternate universe, perhaps it’s not so surprising.  The inhabitants of that universe are, of course, identical to our own in all but circumstance.  So it’s little wonder, perhaps, that some of the faces you’re about to see will be familiar. First, let’s start with the exception.”

            Ketch brought up a picture of Sam Winchester from the lawyer’s web page. “This is Levine’s new lawyer, Sam Winchester,” he began.  “Some of you may have already recognized the name as a legacy member of our group?  He comes from a known family, but appears to have no ties to our ranks or the supernatural prior to now.  The fact that he was involved at all did provide a certain amount of mystery.  The press was quick to point out that Winchester had no ties whatsoever to Levine, there’s no indication that the two ever met, and neither he nor his law firm had ever associated with any clients of Levine’s status.  The fact that Winchester is a legacy only made it more puzzling.  But I finally understood why he was involved when I saw the men come through that portal last night.  Because among them was none other than Sam Winchester.  Ladies and gentlemen, there are currently two versions of this man existing at the same time in this universe.  One of them belongs here, as a lawyer and a family man.  But the other does not.  This alternate version of Sam Winchester is a monster, and our first bounty. I do not believe that the fact the angel took both versions of this man when he escaped is any more of a coincidence than choosing Winchester in the first place.  The angel has need of them both.  They both need watching, and the monster version is to be captured.  But that will likely be difficult.  We now know that the angel’s fingerprints are identical to the man we believe is this world’s version of his vessel, a Jimmy Novak. The two are absolutely identical, and we have every reason to believe these two versions of Sam Winchester will be the same.”

            “How the hell do we tell them apart?!” someone asked, incredulous.

            “Leave that to me,” Ketch assured.  “I’ve received word that Shelton has returned to his ranch in Oklahoma, accompanied by one of these two men.  I intend to personally meet with them to determine which version this is. If it’s the monster, I’ll apprehend him myself.  Otherwise, this bounty is open.”  Ketch put up the price and waited, letting the high number stir the interest of the hunters.  “Take note that this bounty is only for live capture.  We need to find out what it is about these two men that interested this angel.”

            “The next bounty should be considerably easier, as this world’s version is deceased,” Ketch explained, bringing up the next picture.  “This picture is from the last driver’s license of Winchester’s deceased older brother, Dean.”  He brought up the bounty.  “This one isn’t nearly as high as the other, but make no mistake, this man is also a monster from another reality.  We know next to nothing about either of these brothers.  Until we know otherwise, they’re to be considered armed and dangerous.  This bounty is dead or alive.”

            Ketch cleared his throat.  “This next bounty, I’m sure, will be difficult for some of you.”  His eyes traveled the room, lingering on a few hunters near the rear.  Ketch had no doubt the earlier comments had come from one of these.  “Please bear in mind that, whatever association you may have had with this world’s version, this man is from another reality and is a monster.”

            Loud shouts and exclamations of surprise followed the reveal of Bobby Singer’s picture.  When Ketch added the bounty, the shouts grew even louder.  “This is Robert Singer,” Ketch called over the noise.  “Yes, I am aware that, at one time, Mr. Singer was a member in good standing of your ranks.  The, shall we say, incidents that took place involving him have nothing whatsoever to do with this current bounty on this monster.  Singer is the only arrival from the other universe that was not taken along with the angel.  And I know for a fact that he is indeed armed and dangerous.  This bounty is dead or alive.  And he comes with a complication.  We have reason to believe he has taken hostages, which was likely the reason he was left behind.”

            “I’m sure many of you are familiar with Levine’s group, Maroon 5,” Ketch said, indicating the promotional picture he’d brought up.  “From the left, this is Sam Farrar, Jesse Carmichael, Matt Flynn, Levine, Mickey Madden, James Valentine, and PJ Morton.  As I mentioned, the band was present during my unfortunate error at the park last night.  When the angel escaped with the others, Singer got the drop on me and drove me off using a pistol.  At that point, it’s believed he abducted the remaining six members of Maroon 5.  Their personal cell phones were discovered a short time ago at the park.  Their families and acquaintances reported that they’d been ‘assisting’ with trying to help Adam and his bodyguard with their legal issues.  I believe they were at the park last night as a show of support, and to wish the angel well.  While these six men were unquestionably aware of the angel’s true nature, I fully believe that they are little more than innocent bystanders, dealing with something they could not possibly understand.  Unless they are affected by the angel or his accomplices in a supernatural way that leaves a lasting, measurable effect, they are to be considered civilian hostages.  Every attempt is to be made to rescue them, with the understanding that, based on their previous relationship with the angel and the fact he did, in fact, save them from a sniper, it’s possible they may not wish to be rescued.”

            “You think they got Stockholm Syndrome or something?”

            “It’s quite possible,” Ketch agreed.  “The angel can have a powerful influence.  They were already trying to assist him despite knowing his status, even to the point of protesting my use of the Enochian manacle.  And this is Singer we are talking about.  Our world’s version was known to be quite persuasive.” He indicated the band again.  “Be on the lookout for these men.  They’ll more than likely lead us to the others, and they, more than any other involved here, are the most likely to make a mistake.”

            “Now to the most important matter.”  Once again, Ketch brought up the angel’s picture.  “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but the angel, Castiel, is our primary target.  He is listed priority one, live capture only.  This is the bounty.  Yes, the number is correct,” he called over the astonished gasps.  “I don’t have to tell you how dangerous this monster is. And the bounty listed here will only pay under the following special circumstances.”

            Ketch let the group read the stipulations in silence.  Then the room exploded in noise.  He stood, arms crossed, and simply waited.  After a moment, the hunters finally quieted down. Ketch looked them over with a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, you have your bounties,” he told them.  “Spread the word through your assigned groups, and be absolutely certain that the stipulations for the angel’s bounty are known and understood.  Any questions, please see my assistant Charles.  Good day, and good hunting!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun gave Mr. Ketch the finger both times his picture appeared. Thinks Ketch can suck his balls. Said Ketch is the only real monster in that room. Noticed he “gave the truth scope.”


	6. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a discovery he's not sure how to deal with. Lawyer Sam's skills persuasive skills are put to the test.

            The doctor argued with him, but Dean was adamant about leaving.  The hospital food had been surprisingly not bad. Eating it had done wonders for him. He could open his eyes now without too much pain, provided he didn’t look at any bright lights.  Dean still had some residual dizziness if he moved too quickly, but overall, he felt almost back to normal by the time Sammy returned.

            Ok, that was a lie.  He felt like he had a bad case of the flu.  Everything ached, his mind seemed slow, and he moved like an old lady with arthritis.  It was a real pain in the ass.  But it didn’t matter.  He didn’t have time to be laid up.  He had to find Cass.  That was the only thing that mattered.  Too bad he didn’t know where to look.  Well, he and Sammy would think of something.  They always did.

            To his surprise, Sammy, who had been so against Dean leaving before, now seemed in a real rush to get him out.  From the moment he’d returned, he’d fussed over Dean like a mother hen, helping Dean dress, hurrying through the paperwork, and rushing Dean out the door.  Everything about Sammy radiated tension.  It was weird. Even though Dean didn’t have to protect his eyes anymore, Sammy had refused to let Dean walk, insisting on pushing him out in a wheelchair.  Well, whatever.  Dean put up with it, letting himself be wheeled out like an invalid.  There, he waited in the stupid chair until Sam brought Baby up to the curb.  Even that was weird.  The look on his brother’s face when he’d pulled up in Baby was almost furtive. Sammy’s green eyes were everywhere, anxiously watching as he approached Dean and hurried him into the passenger seat. It was almost as if he was expecting them to be attacked.

            Then Sammy started fastening Dean into the seat belt, and Dean decided he’d had just about enough.  “Holy shit, dude, I’m not broken!” he exclaimed shoving his brother’s hands away. “Would you knock it off?!”

            Sammy froze.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  He raised his hands and backed off.  “Just worried, is all.”

            “I noticed!  What’s the matter, Sammy?  The cops coming for me after all?”

            “What?  No!” Sammy’s eyes widened in surprise that could only be genuine.  His brother had a lousy poker face.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  I’m just worried about you!”

            Dean obediently fastened his seat belt.  Then he flashed his brother a smile.  “I’m fine, Sammy.  Really. Now can we please get going?”

            “Yeah, that is definitely a good idea.”  Sammy jogged around Baby and climbed in behind the wheel.  And a moment later they were off.

            “Maybe it’s not the cops, but none the less, someone is on to us, aren’t they?” Dean guessed.  “That’s why you’re in such a rush!”

            “Things just got more complicated, yes,” Sammy confessed.  Now that they were on the road, he seemed considerably more relaxed.  “But it’s alright now.  I’ve got you, Dean.”  He glanced over, noting Dean’s wince.  “The light still hurts?”

            “The bright stuff, yeah.”

            “Lie back and relax, then.”

            Dean sighed, leaning back into the seat and closing his eyes.  The engine sounded off.  That damned knocking sound was back.  He’d thought he’d gotten that taken care of three months ago?  Oh well.  If he was stuck here for another month, he’d have some time on his hands. He could fix his Baby while they tried to figure out a way to get back home.  The less time he spent stuck in this weird-ass universe, the better.

            And then the obvious finally sank in.

            Dean opened his eyes, looking up at the roof, noting the slight difference in color.  He sat up and took in the sight of the altered dash.  His eyes lingered on the iPod.  And then they moved to the driver.  Dean stared at him, going still and silent.

            The mirror image of Sammy had been glancing over at Dean as he drove, and was quick to notice the change.  “Don’t freak out,” he called.  “I’m not going to hurt you, Dean.  I, um, guess I should have just told you as soon as I realized you thought I was him, b-but you’d just calmed down and I didn’t want to upset you!”

            “I’m upset!” Dean announced.  His voice was low and quiet.  Every muscle was tense.

            The stranger grimaced.  “Yeah, I kind of see that.  A-alright. Where do I start?”

            “From the beginning would be nice?”

            “Ok, from the beginning.  You seem to understand you’re in a different reality?  Well, I’m still your brother, j-just not the same one you’re used to.  I’m Samuel William Winchester, Dean, youngest son of John and Mary Winchester, younger brother of Dean!  Um, I understand that in your reality, you hunt monsters, but I’m not a monster.  I’m not going to hurt you!”

            Dean shifted his body around into a better position to fight or defend himself. He’d known, intellectually, that some people existed in both realities.  He’d met both versions of Adam Levine, and in his world, Blake Shelton was a security guard.  But this, to actually see this stranger that looked exactly like his brother?  Dean had seen too many monsters disguised as people he trusted to not have his fight-or-flight instinct kick in.  And he couldn’t understand this strange person’s motivation.  “Why did you take me out of the hospital?” Dean demanded.  “What do you want?  Where are you taking me now?  What’s going on?  What the hell are you doing to me?!”

            “Ok, you’re obviously very anxious right now,” the driver noted.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  Let me explain a bit more.  To answer your question, I took you because you asked me to!  Dean, I’m still your brother, just I’m from a different reality than you are.  A-and if I was going to hurt you, I had my chance!  I mean, when you were unconscious, and twitching like you were about to have a seizure?  I had to carry you!  If I wanted to hurt you, that was the time to do it!  But all I did was get you some help, and that’s all I’m doing now. Helping you!”

            Dean simply watched him in silence.

            “Dean, I am not going to hurt you!” Not-Sammy repeated.  “We’re both monster hunters in your world, but that isn’t the case here.  In this world, I’m a lawyer, and you’re…”  He swallowed hard.  “That’s not important.  What’s important is that you keep cool.  Because you’re looking at me now like you’re trying to decide if you should attack me or not.”

            “I am!”

            The green eyes widened.  “Yeeeaaaaah, how about you don’t?”

            Dean looked frantically around.  He had no idea where he was, and this creepy double of his brother was driving away with him?! “Where the hell are you taking me?!” Dean demanded.  “You know what, forget it.  I don’t care where we’re going, because I’m not going anywhere with you!  Pull over and let me out!”

            “Dean…”

            Dean clenched his fists.  “I said pull the fuck over and fucking let me out!  I don’t know who the hell you are, but I’m not letting you just drive off with me! You never would have gotten me into this car if you hadn’t let me think you were my brother, you son of a bitch! Now let me out before I throw your creepy kidnapping ass through the windshield!”

            The man pinched his lips tightly together.  “We’ve met before, Dean,” he said.  His voice was remarkably calm.  “You were outside with Blake, and I got the contents of that hex bag from you. You’d been carrying it in your pocket, because apparently, you’re an idiot in every universe!  Anyway, there was a coin in there with a sigil on it? It was part of a spell designed to power the hex bag.  Castiel was supposed to let it drain off some of his Grace if he got stuck in the wrong universe, so it could bring him back.  But when Blake used it instead and ended up in your world, that spell locked onto Blake and started siphoning off his soul!  We knew he wouldn’t make it unless we did something to help.  So I went over, and switched bodies with your brother for a little bit so I could do another spell to slow it down.  Then I insisted that you make that deal with Crowley. If that hadn’t happened, Blake wouldn’t have survived to open the portal!  That was me, Dean, I did that!”  He frowned.  “You didn’t know?  I – he, other me – he didn’t tell you?  I’d asked him not to, but I had no way to know!”

            “Holy shit,” Dean breathed.  “That’s why Sammy was out for so long!  It was the communication spell!  It drained him just like it did Levine!”  He sucked in his breath, looking hard at the other man.  “That was you?  _You_ made me agree to carry that damned hex bag?!”

            “Yeah,” the driver confessed.

            “You son of a bitch!  That hex bag is what let Crowley banish Cass!” Dean roared.  “I never would have even let that bastard put it on me if I’d have known who you were!  I did it because I thought my brother was...!”

            The son of a bitch had a perfect Sam Winchester bitch face, and now he was giving it to Dean at full power.  “Oh, knock it off, Dean, I _am_ your brother!  And that’s precisely why I did it!  I had to! Blake would have died, and there’s no way you could have just lived with that!  You know that as well as I do!  Listen, I tried to let Other Me know what I’d done, and asked him not to tell you.  He obviously listened!  If he hadn’t agreed with my choices, don’t you think he’d have told you?  That alone is proof that he trusted me!”

            Dean opened his mouth to protest, and immediately closed it.  Then he slumped in his seat, scowling.  “Ok, yeah, I get it,” he grumbled.  “It doesn’t make it better or alright.  But I get it.  Son of a bitch!”  He rubbed at his temples.  Then he quickly undid his seatbelt.  “Ok, whatever, just let me out.”

            Not-Sammy blinked.  “Y-you still want out?  Why?”

            Dean stared at him.  “What do you mean, why?  Because I told you to let me out!  Now pull over before I bust your head in!”

            Not-Sammy pulled over.  But then he turned and seized Dean’s arm as Dean opened his door and moved to get out of the car.  “Don’t go. Just listen, ok?”

            Dean narrowed his eyes.  “You need to take your hands off of me!”

            But the hand on his arm only tightened.  “Dean, wait!”

            Dean shoved at him and tried to climb out, but then there were two hands on his arm, his brother’s creepy double pulling hard to keep him in the car. Dean snarled at him.  “Let go of me, or so help me, I will fucking _end_ you!”

            “Dean, stop!  I want you to think for a minute!” Not-Sammy insisted.  “If you leave, where the hell are you going to go?!  This isn’t your world!  Nothing at all is going to be the same as it was!  You’ve got no one to call, nowhere to go, and I am here to tell you, there are some real assholes running around right now who will seriously fuck you up!”

            Dean balled up a fist.  “ _I’m_ going to seriously fuck you up if you don’t let go of me!”

            “This is my world, Dean,” Not-Sammy insisted, finally letting Dean go.  “I know it, and I can help you!  I know you don’t trust me.  But right now, I’m all you’ve got!  Let me help!  Please!”

            Dean looked at the other man.  The green eyes were absolutely identical to Sammy’s.  How many times had he seen his brother look at him with that pleading look? Besides, the son of a bitch was right. Dean had nowhere else to go.  He was lost, he was hurt, and something had obviously happened to Cass.  If Adam was with him, surely he’d help.  But Cass would need Dean, and right now, Dean wasn’t in any shape to help anyone.  Dean reluctantly admitted to himself that he needed help.  With no way to find Blake and Adam, this was likely the best he could do.  He sighed, closed his door, and settled back into the seat.  “Alright,” he announced.  “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.  Mind telling me where we are and where you’re taking me?”

            Not-Sammy let out a huge sigh of relief.  “Thank you,” he said as he started driving again.  “We’re in Oklahoma,” he explained.  “About half an hour from the park where you came through the portal.  I took a cab there and picked up Baby, and then I came back for you.  I’d hoped there might be some sign of anyone else, but the park was empty and I don’t know where anyone is.”

            “If you don’t know where anyone is, then where are you taking me?” Dean repeated. He hoped he didn’t sound as anxious as he felt.

            “Home,” came the reply.  “I live in Kansas.  I want to take you there, let you catch your breath.”

            “Holy shit, you are creepy as hell!” Dean exclaimed.  “Who the fuck do you think you are, that you can just take me home with you without even asking me?!  Geez, dude, at least ask me on a date first!”

            The driver’s hands tightened on the wheel.  “I _think_ I’m Sam fucking Winchester, and I’m the only real link you have with this world!  Dammit, Dean, I’m helping you because, even though you’re from a different reality, you are still my brother, alright?  Nothing’s more important than family!”

            The old familiar mantra silenced Dean.  He tried to imagine how he’d react if their positions were reversed and Not-Sammy was lost in his world.  Yeah, he realized, he’d be just as creepy, if not worse.  He needed no further example than what he’d done to Blake.  He’d never hesitated to take the big cowboy prisoner, even fighting with and restraining him when Blake tried to run!  While getting Cass back had played a large role in that, he’d known from the start that Blake was in mortal danger, simply by virtue of being from another universe.  If Not-Sammy was in Dean’s universe, he’d have been in the same situation! And considering how many people, human and otherwise, that Real-Sammy had pissed off over the years?  This guy wouldn’t stand a chance without Dean to watch him!  That sobered Dean.  If Sammy’s double was here, that meant his own was here, as well.  According to Not-Sammy, he wasn’t wanted by the police, at least.  But only God knew what shenanigans his duplicate might have pulled.  Not-Sammy was right.  “Alright,” Dean sighed.  “Take me wherever you want to take me.  Just help me find Cass!”

            Not-Sammy lit up like the sun.  “I will! A-and meanwhile, I’ll keep trying to get in contact with Adam and Blake.  Blake just had a press conference, announcing that he was back and that Adam had nothing to do with it.  That’s kind of why I had to get you out of the hospital fast, before someone caught on.”

            “I see.”  Dean had no idea what he was talking about, but he wasn’t about to let Not-Sammy know that. He still didn’t trust the guy. “What’s that got to do with my angel?”

            “Well, according to the news, the police think Adam’s on the run with Castiel. They’re both in a whole hell of a lot of trouble, Dean.”

            Dean eyed him.  “And you stick around to help?  What are you, their assistant?”

            “I’m Adam’s lawyer,” Not-Sammy explained.

            Dean did a double-take.  “You’re a lawyer?!  Holy shit, you graduated here, and now you work for a country star?  Dude, that’s awesome!  Way to go, man!”

            That earned him a smile.  “Yes, I suppose I would work for Blake Shelton, now that he’s back.  I already work for Adam Levine, and he’s a rock star!”

            “A rock star!” Dean breathed.  “That’s right, Levine’s a rock star here and Blake’s the country star!  You’re not just an ambulance chaser, you’re a shyster for the stars!”  He grinned and slapped the lawyer’s shoulder.  “Damn, I’m proud of you!”

            Not-Sammy beamed.  “There’s so much to tell you, and I want to hear all about how you hunt monsters!” He glanced over, his smile softening. “But you look exhausted, Dean. Why don’t you just try to relax and get some rest?  I’ll wake you when we stop for food.  I know you’ll want to eat again soon, since all you had was hospital food!”  The smile widened once more.  “Bacon double cheeseburger, fries, beer, and pie?  I know a place that serves a great apple pie!”

            It was weird.  This guy knew so many personal details about Dean.  And he was so much like Sammy!  But of course, he _was_ Sammy, just not the Sammy Dean knew.  Dean idly wondered where his own double was in this world?  The fact that Not-Sammy was driving the Impala seemed odd. But that was a question for another time.  “That sounds good to me,” he announced.  “My kind of grub!”

            Not-Sammy’s smile turned sly.  “Some things never change, huh?  Hey, what do you think of Baby?  I had her restored.”

            Dean scowled at him.  “You’re an asshole for replacing the tape deck with that damned CD player and iPod!”

            And now the smile grew soft.  “If it bothers you that much, you can change it back?”

            “If I’m stuck here, I intend to!  And then I’ll kick your ass for changing it!”

            “You do that, Dean.”  Not-Sammy was happily drumming his fingers on the wheel as he drove, glancing at Dean. “Dude, you look exhausted.  Lie back and close your eyes.  It’ll be a while before we stop, but I know a good place. Rest up.  I’ll get you some cholesterol, and we can talk.  I’m sure you’ve got a million questions.  I know I do!”

            Dean eyed him, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop?  Judging by the way Not-Sammy was acting towards him, especially the tears back at the hospital, Dean realized that, in this world, he and his brother weren’t on the best of terms.  It seemed as if Not-Sammy hadn’t seen Other-Dean in some time, and missed him.  Well, maybe Dean would give his other self a good swift kick in the ass while he was here? Other-Dean apparently needed a reality check.  Nothing mattered more than family.

            But meanwhile, Not-Sammy was right.  Dean was exhausted.  This wasn’t his Baby, but she was as close as he was going to get. Even with that damned knock, the sound of the engine was soothing.  His head was still fuzzy, and his body longed for rest.  Dean closed his eyes, and a moment later, he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thought it was good that Dean at least he trusted Lawyer Sam enough to do that. Liked how he kept thinking of him as “Not-Sammy.” Wondering how “Not-Sammy” is going to tell Dean he’s dead? Thinks that will be an interesting conversation.


	7. Of Angels and Archangels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam tells Bobby and the band what happened between him and Castiel that led to his current condition

            For a six-foot guy, Bobby thought that Adam Levine looked very small.  He was curled into a defensive posture on the floor in the corner of the trailer’s cramped living room, leaning into the corner as if he hoped it would soon swallow him.  His arms crossed tightly over his chest and his legs were drawn up until his motorcycle boots were practically up to his rear.  Cass’s trench coat seemed to swallow him.  His hazel eyes were troubled, staring steadfastly at an area of the tattered carpeting.  In Bobby’s world, Adam Levine was very flamboyant, always drawing attention to himself.  But here, he seemed to almost be embarrassed or ashamed.  His cheeks had a touch of color to them, and he refused to look up at anyone.  Naturally, everyone else had their eyes on him, and apparently, he was all too aware. “I know you’ve got questions,” he sighed.  “And I’m trying to think of where to begin.”

            “Actually, could you give us just a moment?” Bobby ventured.  “I’d like a private word with the boys here.”

            Adam nodded.

            Bobby gestured for the band, gathered them all together near the entry room, and lowered his voice.  “Boys, I probably don’t have to tell you that we’ve got a serious problem on our hands,” he began.  “The angels, well, did Cass tell you that the body you’re used to seeing isn’t his?”

            Nodding heads.  “He said it belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak,” James recalled.  “And the way Castiel got it, well, he said he never wanted to take another human vessel again after what he did to Novak and his family!”

            Bobby nodded.  “Angels and demons are alike in one way – they both need to possess human bodies in order to really affect things on the Earth.  Now, anyone can serve as a demonic vessel, but let me tell you a little bit about angelic vessels.  Apparently, it’s a specific genetic trait, passed on from parent to child. That’s why my Sam and Dean are vessels, because their daddy, John, had that trait and passed it to them.  Novak passed it to his daughter.  And apparently, one or both of Adam Levine’s parents passed it to him.  The angels can tell right away if a human has that trait or not.  But while a demon can force its smoky ass down the throat of pretty much anyone, and the man talking to you right now is living proof of that? It’s not really that hard to boot them right back out with a simple exorcism, and keep them out with a tattoo. Angels, when they’re in, are rooted a lot deeper.  Generally, once they’re in, they’re in until they decide to go.  But an angel can’t take a vessel without the consent of that human host.  Problem is, that’s where the human’s ability to participate in the decision-making process ends.  With both angels and demons, the human ends up losing control over their body.” Bobby glanced back at Levine, returned his attention to the silent band, and lowered his voice even further.  “If Adam’s a vessel for an angel, and it kind of looks like he is?  Then that’s probably not Adam Levine sitting in there, not really.  The angel usually has complete control once a human lets them in. Adam’s still in there, and aware to a point.  But most of the time, the human’s shunted off into a corner and isolated.  How much is up to the angel.  Adam may not even be aware of where he is or what’s happening.”

             “Why?”  Jesse wanted to know.  His fists were clenched at his sides, and his face looked pale.  “Why would Castiel do this to Adam?!”

            “There’s got to be a reason,” PJ declared.  “Our angel would never force Adam into anything!”

            “You’re right,” Bobby confirmed.  “For Cass to be able to take him as a vessel, Adam would have first had to agree to it.”

            “But why?” Jesse repeated.  “Mr. Singer, after all he’s done for Adam, I understand why he would say yes.  But why would our angel even ask it of him?”

            “About the only reason I can think of for Cass to do something like this would be if he’s trying to hide,” Bobby mused, glancing back at Adam.  “But who from?  Any other angel or demon would know who he is no matter what vessel he’s in.  And Ketch might be fooled for a little bit, but he’d figure out fast that’s not Adam!  Cass doesn’t exactly blend in well with the rest of the population.”

            “What about the cops?” Mickey asked.  “If Castiel’s inside of Adam’s body, then that means they can’t touch him!  Once Winchester gets Adam off the hook, they won’t have to worry anymore, because the cops aren’t going to find Castiel, right?”

            “What about his other body, Jimmy Novak’s?” Farrar wanted to know.  “Is it still, like, alive?  Castiel said Novak wasn’t in it, so if Castiel’s not in it either, does that mean it’s dead?”

            “Castiel said he can resurrect the dead, so it might not matter,” Matt pointed out.  “But that’s seriously risky!  To resurrect someone, their body’s gotta be, like, intact, right?  So if something happened to Novak’s body and Castiel couldn’t get back into it, he’d be stuck in Adam!  And what happens to Adam then?  Besides, I don’t buy Castiel doing this just to hide from the cops.  Even if they arrested him, Castiel could get out of prison any time he wanted!  He proved that when he rescued Adam!”

            “Guys, let’s just ask him, ok?” Jesse pleaded. “I’m worried!  I really need to know that Adam’s ok!”

            “Cass couldn’t do this without Adam’s permission,” Bobby reminded.  “And after what happened to Novak, I don’t see my boy doing this unless there was one hell of a good reason!  But before we talk to him, I want you boys to understand what’s happening to your friend. Novak told Sam and Dean that having an angel inside of you is like being chained to the tail of a comet, and Cass didn’t even let him experience most of what was happening to them!  Honestly, that’s a blessing.  When my Sammy was a vessel, he was allowed to see everything that was happening to him, everything Lucifer made him do...  Yeah, long story,” he sighed, seeing the wide eyes. “I think Castiel had the right idea. He shielded Novak, so he had no real idea of what that boy went through.  Otherwise, he’d have probably lost his mind.  Could you imagine being trapped in your own body while someone else controlled it?”  He nodded as he looked at the faces of the band.  “Bottom line, we don’t know how much Adam is aware of what’s happening around him.  He may be able to hear and see everything, and he may be just shunted aside like Novak was.  But either way, even if that’s Adam in control?  You have to understand that Cass is always right there, and he can take the wheel any time he wants, with or without Adam’s permission!  Once they’re in, the angel has complete control. So as much as this may hurt?” Bobby’s voice was gentle now, his eyes fixed on Jesse.  “You all have to try to be strong for Adam.  Cass can come back out if he wants, but Adam’s trapped right now, boys. And he’ll stay trapped unless and until Cass lets him go.  We have no way to know how much he’s aware of what’s happening at any given time, but regardless, he’s gotta be terrified!  No matter how much he may trust Cass, the fact remains that as long as Cass is inside of him, Adam’s not much more than a marionette.”

            “That’s gotta be awful for him!”  Jesse was wiping at his streaming eyes now. “Adam’s such a control freak!  If he’s really...  If it’s like that?  I can’t imagine anything worse for him!”

            “Then it’s vital that you get a hold of yourself!” Bobby’s voice was stern, but not unkind. “So that if he looks out?  He sees that all of his closest friends are standing with him!  That means we can ask them what happened, but we don’t have the right to question their decision, and we sure as hell don’t argue with them!  Right now, we support both of them, no matter what!  Understood?”

            Nods and a chorus of “Yes sir.”  Bobby smiled.  He squeezed Jesse’s shoulder, received a grateful, watery smile, and led the way back out to the living room, where the still figure of Adam Levine still waited.

            Adam had taken off the trench coat and was holding it in his hands, his gaze still focused away from everyone. “This...  It’s upset you.”

            “Everyone’s a bit upset, yes,” Bobby admitted.  “But not so much about that.”

            Adam didn’t look up.  “No, I suppose not.  Alright. Where do I start?”

            “Well, first things first,” Bobby began.  “You all settled in there?  Everything, you know, fits ok?”

            Adam gave a small smile.  “I’m fine,” he said without looking up.

            “Good to know.”  Bobby cleared his throat.  “Now, we’re obviously looking at a vessel here.  So, who are you, exactly?  Castiel, is that you, boy?”

            When Adam shook his head, Bobby was simultaneously relieved and worried.  “Ok, so you’re another angel?”

            “No, I’m not an angel, not really.  I’m Adam!  It’s just me in here,” the singer explained.  “But right now, I’m so loaded up with angel power that I kind of am an angel, sort of.  Castiel tore out his Grace, his power, and put it into me.  It was the only way he could hide, and slow down what’s been happening to him.”

            “Alright.”  Bobby’s heart was pounding now.  This was worse, so much worse, than he’d thought.  _The full power of an angel, hidden away inside of a man’s body?  Castiel, you idjit, what the hell were you thinking?!_ But the band was an eerily silent group of pale faces and wide eyes, all looking to Bobby for guidance.  He needed to keep it together for their sake.  Forcing himself to act casual, Bobby pulled a beer out of the cooler, popped the top, and handed it to Adam.  He blinked, realizing that, in the space of a heartbeat, the trench coat had vanished from Adam’s hands and was being worn again.  Adam hadn’t moved a muscle.  Right.  Bobby swallowed and forced himself to smile pleasantly.  “Last time I knew what was going on with you was the day you switched bodies with my world’s version of you, Adam,” Bobby prompted as Adam took the bottle and took a drink.  “Why don’t you start then?”

            “It’s as good a place as any to start,” Adam agreed. “Apparently, shortly after that, Castiel realized that his wings were healed.  He’d said they’d been burned?”

            “Metatron,” Bobby growled.  He’d moved to lean against the wall in the living room and was busy carving slices out of an apple with a hunting knife, the picture of calm. “Long story short, bastard stole Cass’s Grace and used it in a spell to kick all the angels out of Heaven.  They all got their wings burned off when that happened.  People thought it was a global meteor shower, all those fireballs falling from the sky, and Cass was left with nothing more than his human vessel.”

            “But they healed when he got here, his wings, I mean,” PJ confirmed.  “He had those big black beautiful wings, all shadowy, with full feathers!  And he could fly again!”

            Bobby looked up.  “Really?  Well, I’ll be!  Glad to hear it!”

            “Yeah, well, it’s not as great as advertised,” Adam mumbled.  “Nothing about this is.”

            Bobby winced.  “You’re human, Adam,” he reminded gently.  “Humans aren’t meant to have angelic Grace.  Cass took one hell of a risk, putting that inside of you. It could have easily killed you both!” 

            “It wasn’t fun,” Adam admitted.  His voice was barely more than a whisper.  “And it hurt him, hurt him bad.  It was kind of like watching someone tear off their own arm, and afterwards, well, he was barely conscious!  I think maybe he gave me too much?  For a moment there, I thought he was going to...”  Adam swallowed hard.  “Anyway, that’s what this is.  Castiel’s power, all of it, is inside of me now, and he’s pretty much human.”

            Bobby shook his head.  “The power of an angel, without the angel to control it?  Boy, that must be burning you up inside!”

            Adam didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. Bobby cut himself another slice, watching Adam without appearing to do so.  “Go on, then.  What in tarnation made that idjit angel decide to do something like this?  What happened?”

            “What happened was that Castiel made a mistake, a big one,” Adam reported.  “Apparently, in your world, the Winchester brothers live in some kind of bunker that belonged to the Men of Letters?  Well, Castiel knew the Men of Letters existed here, so when he got his wings, he went out to that bunker.  He told me it was ‘a moment of weakness,’ going out there when he was perfectly aware that his Righteous Man wouldn’t be there.  But I get that, believe me!  I’d just gotten to see Blake, and Castiel was able to give Dean a message, but he couldn’t see him in person like I’d just done.  And there was more to it.  Castiel was afraid.  He’d been aware for some time that something was different, changed about him since he came to this reality.  That angel valium thing he could do, where we’d touch him when we were upset and immediately feel better?”

            Bobby frowned.  “That ain’t Cass!”

            “No, it’s not, at least not back in his own universe,” Adam confirmed.  “But it was something I realized he could do from the day he arrived.  He’d never had that power before, and he couldn’t control it at all.  That’s why just touching him worked!  Plus, it kept getting stronger.  At first, I had to have skin to skin contact to feel an effect.  But soon I could feel it just by holding onto the sleeve of his trench coat!  Eventually, it got so strong that when our whole group was in contact with each other, Castiel touched one of us and we all felt it!”

            “True story!”

            “That was amazing.”

            “I suspected something then.”

            “We know you did, PJ, we know.”

            “But Castiel eventually realized that _all_ of his powers had been affected,” Adam continued.  “He was stronger than he’d ever been!  And that scared him, scared him bad, because he didn’t understand what was happening to him. Finding out his wings were healed, realizing for sure that something had changed with him?  He was reeling.  He was longing for Dean.  And that night, when he went out to the Men of Letters bunker, Castiel called for him.”

            Bobby gave a deep sigh.  And when Adam again grew silent, Bobby explained.  “The Men of Letters bunker is designed specifically for two purposes – to store supernatural knowledge, and to track supernatural activity.  The day the angels got booted out of Heaven, the computer systems in there went haywire. So if that lovesick idjit sent out his little mating call right outside of that bunker, with all those sensors updated to modern standards because the Men of Letters were in it again?  He must have tripped every alarm they had!  From that point on, Ketch and his sycophants would have been actively tracing him.”

            “Not just them,” Adam said.  “Ketch was already tracking Castiel by the time he did that.  But it must have really rattled Ketch, that Castiel knew exactly where his biggest storehouse was!  Still, that wasn’t the real problem.  The real problem was the other angels!  See, when Castiel called out for Dean, he attracted the attention of the hosts of Heaven, too.  He’d tried contacting them when he got here, but he said that his ‘angel radio’ that the angels use to communicate?  The signal wasn’t quite aligned.  But the longer he stayed here, the more in-tune he became.  He’d been keeping himself hidden and was still under their radar until he made his mistake at the bunker.  I guess, in his world, Castiel’s used to hiding his presence from his fellow angels, because he pissed so many of them off?  So it’s kind of like second nature for him to stay shielded.  But when he called for Dean, they realized he was there, and that he was the answer to a certain problem they’d been having for some time now.  A problem by the name of Cassiel, one of the archangels.”

            That got Bobby’s attention.  “Who?  No such thing in my world!  The only archangels were Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel!”

            “I guess there’s a bit more over here. Cassiel doesn’t generally interfere with humans, but honestly, that’s kind of surprising.  Because he’s got human emotions, you see.  He’s the angel of the unjustly persecuted and of serenity. He shoulders the burden of care and is seriously good at providing comfort when you’re really at your wit’s end. And he’s all about someone called ‘The Righteous Man.’  Yeah,” Adam continued, noting the look on Bobby’s face.  “Combine that with the fact that it’s possible Castiel, the angel, in the lore of this world was a probably a spelling error from someone speaking of Cassiel, and the end result is that Castiel’s alternate self in this world is the archangel Cassiel!”

            “Ha!  I knew it!”

            “That’s why his wings regenerated.”

            “Dude, I totally called that!”

            “You’re so full of shit!”

            “So our Cass got an upgrade,” Bobby mused. “Could be why his wings regenerated, if he was tapping into the powers of an archangel?”

            “Yeah, that’s not exactly what happened,” Adam sighed. “But I’ll get to that.  Cassiel knew something was going on, for the reasons that I’ll get to later.  But he didn’t understand until Castiel found out about the Dean Winchester in this world.”

            Bobby snorted.  “Bizarro world Dean!  I can’t wait to see what he’s like.  Where is that son of a bitch, anyway?”

            “Dead.”  Adam never changed expression, speaking the word that drove a chill through Bobby’s very soul as if he was discussing the weather.  “He died years ago.”

            The band was making noises of sympathy.  “I didn’t want you to know, because, you know, I didn’t know how you’d react,” Farrar sighed.  “Lawyer Sam fell apart after he switched with Hunter Sam!  I couldn’t imagine having my dead brother right in my face, and if you were fond of him, too?”

            “I get it,” Bobby sighed.  “I don’t like it, but I get it.”  He shook his head.  “Balls! What’s Sammy going to say when he finds out?  Well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.  Go ahead, Adam, continue.”

            “Well, that’s the thing.  When Castiel found out about this world’s Dean, he didn’t handle it so well, as maybe you can imagine,” Adam agreed.  “He got upset and cursed at Cassiel, for not saving Dean.  And Cassiel heard him.  He heard everything!  From that point on, his eyes were on Castiel.  But he held back the other angels, even though they were looking to go after Castiel, because Cassiel does have human emotions.  He understood Castiel’s pain.  And besides, Castiel was helping me, and I was being unjustly persecuted. That’s kind of Cassiel’s territory. So he, you know, let it slide, until the day Castiel showed up at the gates of Heaven, asking to speak with him.”

            Bobby groaned.  “Idjit!”

            Adam bristled.  “We knew Blake was in trouble, although not how much at the time. Cassiel’s an archangel, and we were looking for all the help we could get!  The hunters in this world aren’t easy to get a hold of, ok?  If we could get some help from an archangel, we were gonna take it!  Castiel didn’t piss them all off or get them kicked out of Heaven in this reality.  Yeah, he was taking a chance, showing up, but he would have been fine if it hadn’t been for what was happening with Cassiel! And you have to understand, Castiel knew he was different in this reality, but it was so gradual…!”  Adam rolled his eyes.  “Here’s the problem.  If I and the Adam Levine from Bobby’s world were right here in this room together, that wouldn’t be any sort of an issue.  We could sit here and play patty cake all day, nothing would happen, and no one would give a shit.  But it’s not like that with angels!  The longer Castiel was in this reality, the more he adapted to it.  And the more he adapted, the closer he came to drawing on the exact same source of power as Cassiel!”

            “So, what, our angel was siphoning off some of big bad’s angel juice?” Mickey asked.

            “Worse,” Adam stated.  “I don’t understand why, I mean, I would have thought it would go the other direction.  But the rules of reality are only one angel per slice.  It’s why Castiel couldn’t quite link up with Heaven here, because he’s part of his own reality.  But like I said, he’s been adapting, or rather, being adapted by this universe. And the more he aligns with this reality, the closer he comes to fitting into the slot reserved for Cassiel here. They can’t both plug into the same socket, ok?  Only one of them could stay!  And more and more, that’s Castiel.  Because Cassiel’s failing, guys!  He’s weakening and fading out!”

            “Cassiel’s dying?!”  PJ’s eyes were huge.

            But once again, Adam was shaking his head. “He’s not dying, he’s fading out, like, ceasing to exist altogether.  Because Castiel’s taking his place!  Our angel is still adapting, still being changed to fit this reality, and he’s changing into Cassiel himself!  He’s turning into an archangel, guys!  Cassiel’s mandates are already applying to him now.  He was able to shoulder burdens and provide comfort from the day I met him. He’s already getting the strength, the power, of an archangel, especially when Cassiel’s mandates apply!  That’s why he was able to bust out of that stupid manacle that Ketch put on him back at that safe house, because once again, I was being unjustly persecuted.  I couldn’t figure out why Castiel kept going on the way he did,  kept pissing Merl Brandon off more and more until the guy finally was literally about to kill me!  But it was strategy.  Castiel knew that the cuff couldn’t hold an archangel.  Cassiel’s mandate is to protect the unjustly persecuted, and murder is the ultimate expression of that persecution!  So once Brandon hit that point, where he was about to kill one of us? Castiel started yelling about how I was a Righteous Man!  And that’s what let Castiel really tap into Cassiel’s power, and that’s how he broke free!” Adam sighed.  “I can’t imagine what that did to Cassiel, when Castiel intentionally dipped into his power.  All Castiel would say about it was that the two of them had an agreement. But even before he did that, Castiel knew he was in real trouble, especially if, for any reason, he couldn’t get out of this reality!”

            “Holy shit,” Farrar breathed.  “So our angel’s been tapping into archangel power all this time, providing comfort every time we touched him, because that’s what Cassiel does?  Castiel is turning into the archangel, getting stronger and more aligned with this reality even as Cassiel weakens and fades away!”

            Adam nodded.  “And as you might imagine, the hosts of Heaven aren’t real pleased about losing one of their toughest archangels to some interloper from another reality who’d already turned his back on Heaven!  So they tossed Castiel into a cell while they tried to decide what to do with him.”

            “That’s why he said he was detained,” Jesse growled.

            “I don’t understand,” James complained. “Our angel’s just a regular angel, right?  Shouldn’t he be the one that’s fading out?  How could he be beating out an archangel?!”

            Bobby cleared his throat.  “Cass is no ordinary angel,” he reported.  “He’s been completely destroyed more than once, and brought back.  And near as we can tell, it was God Himself who brought him back!  In our world, it seems God takes a special interest in him.”

            “That’s precisely what the hosts of Heaven discovered,” Adam agreed.  “Even though he’s just a normal angel, Castiel’s been touched by God more than once, and that’s why Cassiel’s losing out to him.  So in the end, they gave Castiel a choice – either agree to take Cassiel’s place, rejoin the hosts of Heaven in this reality and be a good little archangel?  Give up his free will and his Righteous Man and guard Cassiel’s section of Heaven, fill his mandates?  Or be destroyed so that Cassiel can recover!”

            Uproar.  Curses and small objects flew around the room. 

            “I don’t get that!”

            “That’s bullshit!”

            “Where’s God in all this, Adam?”

            “Yeah, for real!  If God touched Castiel in his world, then why doesn’t He stand up for him here?”

            “I don’t know!” Adam replied.  “Castiel just said that his Father usually lets His angels sort things like this out among themselves, same as He does with humans. So, whatever they came up with?  He likely wouldn’t interfere!”

            More yelling.  Everyone was shouting over everyone else, and no single voice could be heard.  Bobby was scowling, but secretly glad to see the group had this level of concern for one of his boys.  He let it go on for a bit longer, then stepped forward.  “Alright!” he bellowed.  “There’s obviously more to this story, because Cass came back to open that portal at the park, right?  So shut up and let the man talk!”

            Adam gave him a nod of thanks.  “Obviously, Castiel proposed option three.  He told them he was trying to leave this reality and go back to his own.  Once that happened, there’d be no more trouble because Cassiel would have this reality all to himself.  And apparently Cassiel was fine with that!  He and Castiel did a lot of talking while Castiel was locked up, and the two of them seem to get along alright, despite the situation.  But the rest of the angels were still all about choice one or two, and the odds were pretty high in favor of choice two.  Cassiel, well, apparently he didn’t give a shit what they did.  Castiel was kind of vague about that, but it seems Cassiel didn’t really seem to care about much of anything that was happening to him.  The only thing he cared about was learning more about the Righteous Man.  He just wanted to know more about Dean!  And that’s why he was talking to Castiel, to learn about him.”

            “Dean,” Bobby grumbled.  “Makes sense.  If Dean’s dead in this world, Cassiel obviously never got to know him, and certainly didn’t have the relationship with him that Castiel has!  And if Cassiel has human emotions too, well, er, that is, Dean and Cass…”

            “We get it, dude,” James called.  “Castiel is in love!  If he’s got human emotions, then Cassiel had to have wanted to know about that!”

            Adam nodded.  “Bottom line, Cassiel didn’t really say much on the whole issue with Castiel until he saw me being arrested and sent to jail.  Then he looked into the future somehow, saw what would happen to me, and showed Castiel.  Castiel obviously wanted to stop it.  He said he told Cassiel to either free him so he could help me, or go down and help me himself.  But the other angels wouldn’t allow it until Gabriel, another archangel, weighed in. He suggested they let Castiel help me and try to go back to his own reality, but they watch him.  And if, for whatever reason, Castiel remained here? Then he’d be either brought in or destroyed.  And that’s why our angel came back when he did, why he was able to save me.  And it’s why he wouldn’t tell us anything about where he’d been or what had happened that he was gone so long. Because the angels were watching him!”

            “It wasn’t until we got into that safe house, which was warded from the sight and hearing of the angels, that Castiel could tell me what had really happened.  And he had an idea.  It was his Grace that was the problem.  His powers were changing him into Cassiel and making the archangel fade out, right?  So if he didn’t have them anymore, then the process would slow down, maybe even stop completely!  If he hid me from their sight, gave me his Grace and then just laid low for a while?  It would give us all time to find a way to get him back to his own reality.  So he carved the runes into my ribs at the safe house to hide me from the angels, and when he couldn't pass through the portal?  He tore out his Grace, and put it into me.” Adam swallowed hard.  “I think it almost killed him, guys!  He was in so much pain, and for the longest time he was barely even conscious!  I carried him and just started walking, found a place we could hide.  It took him all night to recover enough that I could leave him alone.  And we’d ended up in Canada, Vancouver!  So I flew him back into the States, then I went looking for all of you.  I needed to find everyone, especially Blake and Dean.”

            Adam’s fingers traced the hem of his coat.  “That’s why I’m wearing this.  Castiel told me there’s a story about Dean and this coat.  I need to find Dean, give the coat to him, and get the two of them together.  Castiel really misses him!  They’ve been apart long enough, you know?  And I need Blake so much it’s killing me!  So that’s what I was doing, trying to get to the two of them.  But I’m having a hell of a time, guys! Castiel could sense, through the link they made back when we opened the portal, that Dean had come through to this side.  But our angel broke both links, mine and his own, because he knew Dean and Blake were both getting dragged after us!  I know Blake’s ok.  He’s back at the house, but he’s surrounded by cops and FBI and reporters, so I couldn’t get to him.  And I thought Dean would be with you guys, but obviously he’s not.  So I’ve got no idea where Dean is now, because I can’t sense him!  I guess he got runes carved into his ribs, like me?”

            “Yeah, Cass carved wards in all of our ribs to hide us from the other angels,” Bobby grumbled.  “But you don’t need angel powers to find him, Adam.”  He indicated James.  “According to your buddy over there, Dean’s with this world’s version of Sam! That’s who caught him when he came through, anyway.”

            “Sam?”

            Adam’s eyes moved to Sam Farrar, who rolled his eyes. “Not me!  Lawyer Sam!  Sam Winchester!”

            “Sam Win…  My lawyer?!”  Adam’s face broke into a relieved smile.  “Oh, thank God!”

            “Then it’s true?”  Bobby felt a surge of pride.  “My Sammy’s a lawyer for a country star!”

            “Rock, actually, but yes.”

            “Don’t give a shit.  My Sammy did good!”  Bobby beamed. “I can’t wait to meet him!”

            “Problem with that is, I’ve been trying to call him and he’s not answering!” Sam Farrar grumbled.  “I’ll keep trying, but we may have to wait for him to contact us.”

            Bobby waved a hand dismissively.  “Don’t waste your time or his.  If your Sam’s anything like my Sam, Dean’s in good hands.  And if this world’s Dean is dead, well, let them have a talk, alright?  Those two brothers, nothing’s more important to them than family.  You’ve got no idea what my boys have gone through for each other! I think Dean would want to stay with this lawyer version of Sam for a bit, once he found out his brother’s gone.” He turned to Adam.  “Castiel’s hiding, then?  My boy’s somewhere safe?”

            “Safe as he can be, at any rate,” Adam sighed. “I went to an ATM, got him some money, and saw him to a bus station before he ordered me to go.  He’s planning to lie low until the next full moon, when we can try to open that portal again.”

            Bobby frowned.  “That means you’re an angel for a month, huh?”

            Adam nodded, his eyes on the floor.

            Bobby’s eyes crinkled in sympathy.  He stepped over and gently put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.  “I know this ain’t easy, Adam.  But you may have saved my boy.  I can’t thank you enough for that!”

            Adam nodded again.

            PJ was looking at Adam curiously.  “What’s it like, Adam?” he wanted to know. “Having an angel’s Grace inside of you?”

            Adam looked up.  “What’s it like?” he echoed.  “It’s like there’s this blinding light inside of me that I can’t get away from! I feel like it’s shining out through my pores, and in a way, it is.  It shines on everything, guys!  Makes it all that much _more_ somehow.  It’s like all my senses are on overdrive, including ones I never had before.  You guys have any idea how loud you all think?!  Castiel must have had a headache the whole time he was with us!”  He shook his head.  “And the energy from it!  It’s like there’s like this engine inside of me that just won’t stop or slow down. But it’s not like my ADHD, where I’m just constant motion.  The energy’s there, but it’s steady, driving me on, keeping me awake and going.  I feel so much, but I don’t feel anything like fatigue or hunger or thirst!”  He rubbed a hand over his face.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect when he gave it to me.  I figured it wouldn’t be fun, but I hoped it wouldn’t hurt.  And it’s not hurting me, not really.  But at the same time, it is.  Because Bobby’s right.  It’s burning me up!  I can’t use too much of it because I’ll draw attention to myself.  But if I don’t use it, if I don’t tap some of it off?  Then it’s just too much!”

            “Ok, so then can’t you just burn some angel juice off now and then?” Matt urged.  “Go to the junkyard and throw some shit around or smite some rats or something!  Whatever you need to do!”

            “He’ll have to be damned careful, Matt,” Farrar warned.  “I’m betting the angels are still after Castiel, and if they see Adam going all angel, well, they’ll figure out what happened pretty quick!”

            “What about Castiel?” PJ wanted to know.  “Everyone’s after him now!  So where is he?  Where’s our angel, Adam?”

            Adam sighed.  “It’s best you don’t know.  We’ve got some very powerful, very ruthless people after us right now.  You can’t be made to tell what you don’t know.”

            “Adam’s right,” Bobby agreed.  “Especially if Arthur Ketch is involved, things just got dangerous.  If he’s anything like he is in my world, there’s nothing he won’t do to get what he wants.”

            “We already know,” James called, shivering. “The guy killed a prison guard and made up a riot to cover the fact that an angel got Adam out of jail!  Son of a bitch is ruthless!”

            “But what about our angel?” PJ insisted. “Ketch has got to be coming after him, and if you have his power, then Castiel can’t defend himself!”

            “He said I can find him if he calls me,” Adam explained, “and that’s gotta be enough for right now.”

            Bobby was studying the tattooed rocker in the trench coat.  The look in his hazel eyes was one he’d been seeing way too much of lately.  “What about your husband, Adam?” he asked softly. “Where’s my boy Blake?  You said he was back at the house, but you couldn’t get to him?”

            Adam made a face.  “First thing I did when I left Castiel was try to sense Blake, but I couldn’t.  So I flew out there and found him.  I know I shouldn’t have done it.  It was a hell of a risk, but I had to see him!  I stayed out of the range of human perception, and I saw him.  I saw Blake!  I was close enough to touch him!”  He was shaking now.  “I need to talk to him, even if it’s just for five minutes!”

            “Then we’ll find a way,” Bobby assured.  “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said "Very nice." Liked that now we understand what happened to Cass, what’s going on with him and why he’s hiding from the other angels. Cass just can’t catch a break with them! Thought it was funny that Adam was told to smite rats.


	8. Ghost From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawyer Sam puts his plans for Dean into effect, but can he really get what he wants?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic music here is, again, the main theme for Dean and Lawyer Sam. Thanks Mr. Fun for giving this song to me!

            Sam couldn’t believe Dean was really here.  While they drove and Dean slept, he’d had to reach out and touch Dean several times, just to assure himself that Dean was real. The simple fact that this was _Dean,_ alive, here with him in Baby, was enough to make his heart want to burst with happiness.  Even asleep, still a bit pale from his ordeal, his brother seemed larger than life.  But that was Dean.  Dean filled up every space he was in, made it his own.  Sam couldn’t stop smiling.  As the miles went by, his mind was filled with the talks they’d have, the things they’d discuss.  For the first time since he’d gotten that horrible phone call in the middle of the night, Sam felt at peace.

            Losing Dean was like losing part of his soul. Now he was back, and Sam finally felt whole.

            They stopped at a diner for the cholesterol he’d promised his brother.  Dean was already digging in, eating with that same old enjoyment he’d always had for cheeseburgers.  But Sam barely tasted his salad.  Nearly all of his attention was focused on watching Dean eat. 

            Everything about Dean was so achingly familiar. There was the way he’d gobble his food like a starving man, copious amounts of it that defied every law of physics because Dean was never fat despite a diet like that.  The way he’d flash that smile and flirt with the waitress. How he constantly put his elbows on the table.  Even the stupid shit that used to make Sam want to smack him, like leaning to one side to let out a loud fart, was so like the brother Sam remembered that it was all he could do not to grab Dean and sob in his arms like a child.  But that couldn’t happen.  He’d already lost control once, and all he’d done was freak Dean out.  Now he needed to hold it together.  Besides, this obviously wasn’t his Dean.  That was something Sam had to keep firmly in mind at all times.  Dean didn’t know him.  As familiar as he was to Sam, in Dean’s eyes, Sam was a stranger.  He was relaxing quite a bit more now, but there was still a wary caution about him.  He watched everything Sam did.  Sam knew he would have to be very careful.  If Dean got spooked again, Sam fully believed that Dean would bolt.  And that could not happen.

            “One thing I gotta say about your stupid universe,” Dean was saying around another bite of burger.  “They make decent burgers!  Where’s the pie?”

            “It’s coming,” Sam assured him.  “Stop being such a hog.”

            Dean scowled.  “Stop being such a nag!”

            Sam laughed.  “I just can’t get over it!  You’re so much like my Dean, I mean, it really is you, isn’t it?”

            “Who else would it be, Santa Claus?”  The green eyes studied him over the half-eaten burger.  “You and your brother don’t get along, huh?”

            Sam shrugged.  Fortunately, Dean eyed him, but then went back to eating and didn’t press the issue.  This was dangerous territory.  If Sam told Dean the wrong thing, Dean might decide this whole thing was just too creepy and run.  And it was creepy!  Sam was self-aware enough to realize it was.  Here he was, in a roadside diner having a late dinner with the alternate reality version of his dead brother, feeding him cheeseburgers and pie and feeling nostalgic.  This wasn’t his Dean.  Intellectually, Sam was all too aware of that.  But sitting with him now, seeing all the familiar twitches and flashes of that same old personality?  It was more than just seeing his dead brother come back to life.  Sam was seeing his brother come back to life as he’d been before he’d destroyed that life with drink.  Dean was holding his burger with hands that didn’t shake.  His freckled face was covered with clear, even if slightly bruised and abraded, skin without a trace of jaundice yellow.  The green eyes weren’t bloodshot.  Dean looked healthier than Sam had seen him in years before he’d died.  He looked the way he’d been starting to look at the end, when Sam and everyone else had been convinced that Dean had been sober for over two years, that he’d finally gotten his life back together.  And that, he decided, was what hurt the most.  This was Dean as he could have been, had he not drowned in a bottle and finally driven off a bridge one cold winter night.

            Back at the park, he’d come through to this reality and had literally fallen right into Sam’s arms.

            It had been instinct.  Sam had seen Blake come through, seen Castiel and Adam vanish as Blake screamed in pain.  Sam had started forward, heading for Blake, thinking he could somehow help the big cowboy. But then suddenly Dean had been there, about to fall flat on his face, and it didn’t matter how long his brother had been gone.  Sam didn’t recall ever moving so fast.  He’d reflexively grabbed Dean, held him tight.  Before Sam had time to really register what happened, Dean was leaning heavily against him, clutching tight to Sam and moaning in pain.  “Sammy!” he’d whimpered.

            At the sound of his name, Sam had largely stopped thinking.  Dean, here! His brother clinging to him, calling his name!  Everything seemed to shut down, time itself coming to a halt and the entire world vanishing until it was only Sam and his brother in his arms.  He tightened his grip on Dean, holding his brother close against his chest as Dean whimpered again in pain.  “Dean!” he called.  “Dean, I’m here!  I’ve got you!”

            Dean didn’t seem to hear.  His hands clutched at Sam’s jacket.  His eyes were tightly closed, his face twisted into a pain-filled grimace.  Sam didn’t feel much better.  He’d gone into what could only be a state of shock.  It seemed like an eternity had passed rather than the seconds he’d been standing there, holding tight to his long-lost brother, oblivious to anything else. Then he’d noticed movement, realized that another figure had just come through the portal, and looked up.  He’d had the unique experience of seeing himself, tangled with a dazed Blake.  He’d frozen, staring into the shocked green eyes of his other self, barely noticing the third figure that had come stumbling through the portal.  And then Dean had screamed for his angel, and a powerful wind had come from nowhere to sweep them away.

            Everything was a blur.  He remembered the wind, the sensation of traveling.  He’d felt as if something immensely powerful had been trying to tear Dean from his arms.  Sam had clung to his brother with all he had in him, screaming Dean’s name and straining to hold on even as he’d tumbled helplessly through the air.  Then, in the very end, he’d lost his grip on Dean, feeling his brother slip out of his grasp just as he’d crashed to the ground.  Sam remembered the despair, the horrible sense of loss he’d felt.  To have Dean again, to hold him in his arms, only to lose him once more was just too unfair!

            And then he’d heard Dean call out.

            He’d come around the bush where he’d landed, and there was Dean.  But Dean was in bad shape, and had quickly lost consciousness.  Nothing Sam did could bring him around.  Sam had gathered the still form in his arms, lifted Dean up just in time to see his eyes roll back.  At the time, all he’d been thinking was that he needed to take Dean home, keep him safe.  But when he’d reached the road, Dean’s body had started to shake.  He’d thrashed for a moment, nearly twisting out of Sam’s arms before suddenly becoming alarmingly still and limp.  No.  Not again. Dean couldn’t die again!

            Sam had immediately called an ambulance for help. He’d ridden to the hospital with Dean, holding tight to his brother’s hand, and had refused to leave his side.

            Then early that morning, as he was sitting by his brother’s bed, his phone rang.  Adam Levine on the burner he’d provided, probably trying to reconnect.  The lawyer had stared at his client’s name, knowing full well he should answer.  But then he’d glanced over at the still form of his brother, lying in the hospital bed.  Unconscious, Dean was pale and still.  And yet somehow, Dean was still talking.  He’d been talking off and on all night, calling Sam’s name or Castiel’s, sometimes Bobby and even Blake.  He’d been quiet for the past hour, but now he was talking again.  “Sammy?” he’d mumbled.  “Don’t leave me, Sammy!”

            And Sam had quietly turned off his phone. He’d shoved it into his pocket, and sandwiched Dean’s hand in his.  “I won’t,” he’d vowed.  “I’m here, Dean.  And I won’t leave you!  I promise! Just rest, ok?  I’ll be right here with you!”

            Dean seemed to understand.  His eyes blinked, never fully opening.  For a moment, Sam dared to hope that he was about to wake up. But he’d only taken a deep breath and then, once more, he’d gone still and quiet.

            The doctors had told him that the longer Dean stayed unconscious, the greater the chance he’d have brain damage.  It was even possible that Dean might never wake up again.  So when the familiar green eyes finally opened, when Dean was awake and coherent and just as irritatingly stubborn as he’d ever been, Sam had been beyond relieved.

            Sam had been with Dean ever since, except for the brief period of time he’d returned for Baby.  Dean either hadn’t understood, or, more likely, hadn’t cared about how close he’d come, how concerned the doctors were about the length of time Dean was unconscious.  Sam had barely gotten a wink of sleep, seated next to Dean’s bed, praying over and over, pleading with Dean to open his eyes.  And when Dean finally had, it was as if the sun had finally appeared after a terrible storm.  And all the stubborn jerk had been interested in was getting out of the hospital to go look for his angel.  Well, Sam told himself, he could help with that.  If it meant keeping Dean with him while they searched, that just happened to be an added bonus.

            Leaving Dean alone in the hospital while he returned to the park for Baby had been nerve wracking.  He’d been careful at the park, wary that someone might still be there to see him.  But except for a group of picnickers, the park had been deserted.  And as he’d unlocked Baby, he’d overheard Blake’s voice on the picnickers’ radio.  Then, he’d been stunned to hear his own.  At first, he’d simply frozen, listening to the man identified as Attorney Sam Winchester talking, obviously impersonating him.  Then Sam’s mind started to race.  His alternate self was masquerading as him!  But when he’d checked Dean into the hospital, he’d given his own information as a contact.  He was close enough to Blake’s ranch that he could conceivably have traveled between there and the hospital.  But sooner or later, he was going to get caught in two places at the same time. Then he’d have some explaining to do.

            Or, he could take advantage of a singular opportunity.  He actually could be in two places at the same time.  And in a flash, Sam knew what he wanted to do.

            He’d gone back for Dean as quickly as he could, gotten him out of the hospital, and had started driving him back to his home in Kansas.  Until he’d gotten Dean into the car and on the road, some part of Sam was absolutely certain someone would come and stop him, take Dean away.  But somehow, he’d managed to not only get Dean out, but even convinced Dean to stay, to let Sam continue to take him further and further away. And the entire time, his phone had remained off.  Sam tried to tell himself he was protecting Dean from Ketch and his organization.  After all, Dean was a man from an alternate universe, something that someone like Ketch would be entirely too interested in. But it wasn’t Ketch he pictured when he thought about who might take Dean away from him.

            What Sam was doing with Dean was wrong.  He’d known from the start that it was wrong. It was still wrong.  He had a responsibility.  Adam needed him now more than ever, and Dean needed to be taken back to the others.  Yet Sam couldn’t force himself to call, even when he’d lied right to Dean’s face and told him he had. The problem was simple.  If Sam got back in touch with Adam or Blake, he was sure he could quite easily get back with the rest of their group.  And among that group was Sam’s other self.  Dean’s brother.  That version of Sam who hadn’t turned his back on Dean, hadn’t let the one person who’d always loved Sam unconditionally get drunk and drive his car off of a bridge. The person that Dean would no doubt immediately run to, turning his back on Sam forever.  And then once again, all Sam would have would be a gaping wound, filled only with the scant memories of the brother he’d completely and utterly failed.

            No.  He had Dean here now, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t let him go.

            It was wrong.  It was unfair.  It was betrayal.  Hell, it was kidnapping!  And Sam just kept doing it.  Already they were back in Kansas, well over a hundred miles from Adam and Blake’s ranch, where the others would no doubt gather.  He should have taken Dean there, reunited with all of them.  They could have started working towards finding a way to open another portal while Sam prepared Adam and Castiel’s legal defense. Instead, Sam was taking Dean in the opposite direction.  Worst of all, Dean had no idea he was being abducted, no clue about how badly Sam was betraying him.  And even though he hated himself for it, Sam had every intention of continuing.  He wasn’t even arguing with himself anymore, not since Dean had responded to not getting his way with that old familiar insult.

            At Dean’s funeral, Sam had experienced one moment of true insanity.  Standing over the coffin, looking at Dean, he simply couldn’t convince himself that Dean was really gone.  He’d leaned in close to his brother in his coffin, called him a jerk, and for just one moment had actually expected that Dean would open his eyes, smile, and call him a bitch in return.  He’d had to touch Dean’s face, feel the cold, stiff flesh, before he could convince himself that those green eyes wouldn’t open, sparkling in mirth at the poorly thought out joke he was playing on everyone.  Sam knew he probably should have gotten therapy then.  Was what he was doing now another symptom of that temporary insanity?  Maybe. After all, when he’d first seen this version of Dean, back in that other universe?  The last thing he’d done was touch him, exactly as he’d touched his brother that day at his funeral. 

            Hearing Dean call him a bitch back at the hospital had pretty much sealed things.  Sam knew then that he couldn’t let Dean go, not without a chance to spend some real time with him.

            The lawyer part of Sam’s mind was sick at what he’d done.  He’d taken Dean away without letting anyone know they were alright or where they were. He’d shut off his cell phone so he couldn’t be reached.  He’d refused to let Dean out of the car, even when Dean had demanded he do so.  Hell, he’d physically held Dean in place, restrained him when he’d obviously wanted to leave, until Sam could talk him into staying!  And now look where they were!

            Yes, Sam decided, he’d finally lost it.  After this, he probably needed to commit himself to an institution and get lots of therapy and powerful drugs.  But before that happened?  He would enjoy every moment of the stolen time he had with Dean.

            Dean wasn’t stupid.  Maybe he wasn’t book smart, but Dean was every bit as intelligent as Sam himself.  Already, he was suspicious.  He’d figure things out soon enough, and realize what Sam had done.  If nothing else, Castiel might tell him.  After all, even if Sam could somehow hide Dean from the rest of the world, he could never hide him from an angel!  Castiel would no doubt be angry with Sam for what he’d done. Along with the other sins he’d committed today, Sam was separating his angel, of all people, from his beloved Righteous Man.  And still, Sam couldn’t bring himself to call.  The only thing that mattered was Dean, spending time with Dean again. Just having him here eased the terrible guilt and grief that had never loosened its hold on Sam’s heart.

            Losing Dean had broken Sam.  Maybe having him back could help Sam finally heal?

            “You know, it’s really strange,” Dean was saying, interrupting Sam’s musings.  “I think I get now, how it was that Blake got so mixed up about his husband when we picked up our world’s version of Adam Levine.  Granted, the big guy was also suffering from a bad case of soul rot, but looking at you?  I know you’re not my brother, dude.  I know that! But you’re so much like him, it’s crazy!”

            “Well, I am him,” Sam offered.  “I’m your brother, Dean!  I’m Sam!”

            “I know, but you’re not him-him!  You’re you-him, him from this world!  You know what I mean.”  Dean took another bite of his burger and moaned pornographically. “Damn!  How am I not three hundred pounds if I’m eating like this?”  The green eyes looked sharply at him.  “I’m not three hundred pounds here, am I?”

            That made Sam chuckle.  “No, Dean, you’re not fat.”  Sam pulled out his wallet and produced the picture of his brother he always carried.  “See?”

            Dean took it and openly admired.  “Good-looking guy!” he announced, handing it back.  “So how’s come you don’t talk to him?”

            Leave it to Dean to find a way to segue back to that question.  Sam took his time replacing his wallet, thinking quickly.  “We grew apart,” he explained.  “Dean had a drinking problem, and it caused some issues, especially when it came to my family.”

            Dean’s eyebrows shot up.  “You got a family?”

            “I had a family,” Sam corrected.  “We’re separated, looking at divorce.  At this point, that’s probably inevitable.”

            “Aw, man, that sucks, Sammy!”  He paused, seeing Sam shiver.  “Sorry.  Should I not call you that?”

            “No, no, please!  Call me Sammy!  Call me whatever makes you comfortable!”  Nothing would please him more.

            But Dean was frowning.  “Well, to be honest, that actually makes me uncomfortable,” he confessed. “And it goes back to what I was saying before.  Looking at you, it’s damned near impossible not to see Sammy, but you’re not him.  I can call you Sam, him Sammy?”

            “I…  Actually, I think I’d prefer Sammy?”

            “Sorry, he’s got seniority.  I know it’s your world, but I’ve known him longer, so he gets to be Sammy.”

            “Right.  Of course.” Sam swallowed his disappointment and forced a smile.  Who would have imagined the day would come when he’d feel irrationally jealous of himself?

            “Anyway, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to?” Dean offered.  “Let’s face it, we don’t know each other at all.  It’s only the second time we’ve met!”

            “And yet, we know each other perfectly,” Sam argued. “We’re brothers!”

            “I’m not your brother, Sam.  I’m my Sammy’s brother.  And if Other-Me was a drunken douchebag who doesn’t even talk to you? Frankly, I’m kind of glad not to be him! Ah!”  Dean lit up like the sun.  “Pie!  Melinda, you know the way to this man’s heart!”

            The waitress giggled, leaning down a little further than was necessary to serve Dean his pie.  Sam grinned and shook his head as she left.  “Same old Dean!”

            “Ha!” Dean exclaimed, pointing his pie fork at Sam. “Works both ways, doesn’t it?  Told you it was tough!”  He paused.  “I’m real sorry to hear about the troubles you’re having, Sam.  But I’m glad you got married.  Any kids?”

            “Three.”  Sam quickly produced his wallet again.  “Deanie, Darren, and little Deana.”  He smiled, seeing Dean’s eyes go wide.  “You – my brother, he meant a lot to me.  We didn’t have the best childhood growing up.  Mom was never really around and Dad drank, so Dean kind of raised us both.”

            Dean seemed to deflate.  “I’d hoped it was better for you in this world, that your life would be better because you weren’t a hunter,” he admitted.  “But you still had the same shitty childhood!  Sammy and I, we lost our mom to a demon when he was just a baby.  Dad raised us all our lives to be hunters, he was rarely around, so I had to take care of Sammy.  I kind of ended up raising us both.”  He sighed. “I thought, if mom hadn’t died…?”

            “She wasn’t much of a mother,” Sam told him. “She kind of acted like we were, well, not real convenient to her, I suppose, in how she wanted to live her life. And dad drank.  Dean raised us both, too, so let’s leave it at that.”

            “Not much different than me and Sammy after all,” Dean mumbled.  He moodily poked at his pie with his fork.  Then he looked up hopefully.  “Still, you graduated college, got married, and had three beautiful kids!  You did awesome, buddy!  I’m sorry about the divorce thing, but…”  The green eyes were hopeful.  “Are you happy, Sam?”

            “I am right now,” Sam replied truthfully. “You’re a huge reason for that.”

            That earned Sam a small smile.  Dean finally started eating his pie, and the smile grew wider.  “Awesome! Not the best roadside diner pie I’ve ever had, but it’s damned good all the same!”

            “That’s why I stopped here.  This place isn’t far from where you worked for a while.  You always made us stop any time we passed through.” 

            Dean froze.

            Not noticing, Sam chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.  “You always were so crazy about pie!  No matter where we stopped to eat, you always wanted some pie for dessert.  You were like this walking atlas of places we’d stop for pie, and you could tell anyone just where to find the best of whatever variety they liked.  But just wait until we get home!  There’s this bakery on the corner, and you used to love it!  You would…”  Sam paused, grimacing as he saw the look he was getting.  “Yeah, ok, it’s weird.”

            There was a moment of awkward silence between them. The radio playing in the diner filled it with music.  Sam paused, recognizing “What Hurts The Most” by Rascal Flatts.  Leave it to country musicians.  The song could have been written for him and his situation with his brother right now.  The salad he’d barely eaten seemed heavy in his stomach.  He forced himself to take another bite, trying to keep his expression neutral, hoping Dean had no way to know how his heart was pounding.

            “Maybe you should try calling again?” Dean suggested. “See if everyone’s alright, if anyone knows anything about Cass?”

            Sam grimaced.  “Of course!  You must be so anxious to get back to your angel!”

            “You know it!”  Dean smiled a wistful smile.  “Once I get back with him, we need to figure out a way to get us back. Carson Daly might be able to help.”

            Sam blinked.  “Carson Daly?”

            Dean nodded, chewing another bite of pie. “Blake and I found him over on our world.  We might be able to use that communication spell, use him to pass a message to Sammy and Bobby over on the other side.  But to be perfectly honest, that’s more of a long shot than anything else. In my world, Daly’s under Crowley’s influence, if not direct control.  That means he’s quite likely either taking orders from a demon, or playing host to one.”

            Sam’s eyes grew very wide.

            “Yeah,” Dean sighed.  “And I gotta tell you, Sam, I’m worried.  Crowley really fucked me over!  And I don’t just mean because the son of a bitch kissed me, although I fully intend to kick his ass for that!  Last I saw of Bobby and my brother, Crowley’s demons had them pinned down.  I don’t know what that bastard did to them after he shoved me through!”  He pinched his lips.  “Sammy and Bobby are tough.  I’m sure, even if Crowley did fuck them up, by now they’re already back up and are looking to kick some ass!  But, you know, it would be nice if I could find a way to be sure, and to let them know I came through ok.”

            Sam carefully kept his expression neutral by focusing intently on his pie, pretending not to notice the way Dean’s face clouded over with concern.  _He doesn’t know!  Dean doesn’t know his brother’s here!_   It was a huge stroke of luck.  Of course, Dean would eventually find out.  But for now, Dean wouldn’t be searching for his brother.

            Sam looked over at Dean.  Dean’s green eyes were downcast and troubled.  He was eating his pie, but not enjoying it in his usual fashion.  The light seemed to have gone out of him.  And with another twinge of jealousy, Sam knew why.  _Of course he’s worried about his brother!  Why wouldn’t he be?_ his mind scolded him.  _What are you doing, Sam?!_   In truth, Sam didn’t have an answer to that. Sooner or later, he would have to face up to his other self.  Well, so be it.  Dean’s brother would be just as trapped as Dean himself.  And maybe Sam could use that to his advantage?  After all, Sam was the one with all the cards.  He had a house, a job, a family, and connections to famous celebrities who could vouch for him.  Even Castiel, he was sure, would vouch for him.  Their angel was the one person who would never be confused about the presence of two versions of Sam in the same universe at the same time.  And he’d trusted Sam enough that he’d let Sam carry the key to the manacle Ketch had put on him.  He still had it.  Castiel liked him!  Surely that meant that Castiel could be persuaded to at least not tell Dean the truth about his brother for a little bit?  Maybe he could even ask Castiel to speak with Dean, convince him that he’d be better served if he stayed with Sam while he was here?  Sam would even swallow his pride and invite his other self, if necessary, to stay with him as well!  He’d do whatever it took if that would help convince Dean to stay.

            Of course there was also the fact that, with both Dean and Blake in this universe, there was no one who could link the two worlds through a portal.  And with Dean’s brother in this world as well, there was no one in Dean’s universe who could draw him back through!  Sam’s heart pounded.  Dean might really be here to stay!  And if Dean was trapped here, then maybe, just maybe, he might stay with Sam for good? Sam would have to convince their angel to stay as well, of course.  Castiel might be reluctant to leave Adam.  But now that Blake was back and Dean was with Sam, the lawyer thought his chances were high that Castiel would be willing to come and stay with him and Dean.  Sam had some money saved up.  He could set the two of them up in a little apartment near his house, where he could visit often while Dean found a job and got settled in to his new life.  Or, if he could convince Adam to keep Sam on and kept Castiel as a bodyguard, he could simply move near the Shelton-Levine ranch with Dean.  Either way, all he’d have to do would be to find a convincing reason to explain away why he hadn’t told Dean his brother was here.  Well, that was a bridge he’d cross when it came up.  It was a problem for a later date.  Right now, the important thing was to get Dean to stay.  With his brother back, Sam could finally heal. And then he could work things out with his wife, get her and his children back, and all of them could start their lives over again.

            _I could have it all.  My whole family, back together again!_

            But Sam couldn’t keep Dean’s presence with him a secret forever.  Not only would that be beyond wrong, a complete betrayal, and of course illegal, it would be insane.  The Dean with him now wasn’t his brother.  Sam knew that.  This version of Dean could never replace his brother!  But if no one knew Dean was with him?  If it would stay just the two of them for a little while longer? Surely Sam could get to know this version of his brother, sow the seeds for Dean to stay later!  Really, who would it hurt?

            _No one,_ Sam assured himself.  _I’ll take him back soon enough.  There’s no reason I can’t keep him with me now, just a little longer!_

            Meanwhile, Dean was looking expectantly at him, and Sam remembered he was supposed to be making a phone call.  Sam pulled out his cell phone and made a show of pretending to find a contact.  He held it up to his ear for a minute, grimaced, and shook his head.  “Voice mail,” he reported, replacing the powered-off phone in his pocket.

            It worked.  Dean looked troubled, but he never questioned that Sam had just tried to make a call.  “I’m starting to worry a bit,” he admitted.

            “Yeah, me too, but I’m Adam’s lawyer,” Sam pointed out.  “If the police picked him up, they’re obligated to call me.  It’s fine.”  _I hope,_ he thought to himself.  If Adam had been picked up by the police, and they couldn’t reach Sam, Adam surely knew enough to keep quiet!

            Then he considered Adam Levine, and suddenly Sam wasn’t sure.  

            “I miss him,” Dean said suddenly.  “I miss Cass!  I need my angel, Sam!  I’ve been away from him for too damned long, alright?!”  He rubbed his head with a shaking hand.  “I’m sorry, buddy.  I know it’s not your fault.  But if I don’t get to see my angel soon, I may just lose my mind!”

            Guilt hit Sam like a punch in the gut.  How had he not considered that?  The pain in his brother’s green eyes accused him.  Feeling ill, he mopped at his mouth and got up. “Bathroom break,” he declared.

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Thank you for sharing.  Do me a favor and spare me the details if you back one out?”

            Just like Dean.  Sam gave his shoulder a squeeze, which earned him a look with a raised eyebrow.  Then he headed to the bathroom.

            He barely made it before he lost everything he’d just eaten.  Flushing the mess away, Sam came out to the sink and splashed water on his face.  He looked into the mirror, and saw the eyes of a stranger.  Who was this man?  Was this really Sam Winchester?  Was he really kidnapping the alternate reality version of his brother, taking him away from his real brother and the angel he loved, just to heal his own selfish pain?  _Am I really so small?  No wonder my wife wants to leave me!_

            Alright.  Enough. Sam wasn’t ready to give Dean back to his brother, but Dean needed his angel.  And after all he’d been through, Castiel deserved to be reunited with his Righteous Man.  That meant Sam had to contact Adam.  It was time to turn on his phone.

            He had over a dozen missed calls, three of which were from Adam’s disposable phone, one from his wife, two from his firm, and the rest from the burner phone he’d given Sam Farrar.  He quickly called Adam back.  “About fucking time!” Adam yelled by way of greeting.  “For fuck’s sake, Winchester, why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?!  I was ready to call out the dogs, the marines, and the boy scouts to come looking for you!  I haven’t quite gotten the hang of how to track people yet, you idiot!”

            Sam didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter.  “I got thrown fairly far off when the portal exploded,” he reported truthfully.  “Is our angel with you?”

            “No.  We’ll talk about that later, face to face.  But for right now, Castiel’s fine.”  Adam sounded worried.  “Have you heard about Blake?”

            “Yeah, I heard the news.”  _And I know who’s with him!_

            “Back from the dead, and surrounded by cops who are apparently still looking for me for the prison break and those assholes that tried to kill us!” Adam exclaimed.  “It’s such bullshit!  Castiel killed the fuckers who were trying to kill us, and we’re the ones they want to throw in jail!  But meanwhile, Blake’s right at the house, but he’s surrounded!  I can’t get to him, and I don’t know what to do, buddy!  I want so badly to go home to Blake.  But the cops there will arrest me as soon as they see me, won’t they?”

            Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Most likely, yes.  As long as Castiel stays out of sight, he’s the one they’re really after.  But they’ll definitely drag you in if they get the chance, Adam.  Lie low for now, until I can coordinate with Ketch and see about getting the charges dropped.  Then we’ll talk about what we have to do.”

            “What about Hunter Sam?” Adam asked, making Sam grimace.  “He’s with Blake, and everyone thinks he’s you!  Ketch can’t find out where he is, or any of these guys!”

            “No, he can’t.”  If Ketch came after Hunter Sam, it would be a matter of time before he came after Dean, as well.  “He’ll have to keep pretending to be me until we can find a safe place to hide him.”

            “You gotta call him and help him out!”

            “Don’t worry about him, ok?” Sam snapped, harsher than he’d intended.  “Right now, you need to focus on keeping your head down and keeping our angel under wraps!”

            Adam sighed.  “Alright.”  He paused, and then his voice grew soft.  “Is Hunter Dean with you, buddy?”

            Once again, guilt washed over Sam.  He closed his eyes, not trusting himself to answer.

            “I think that’s a yes,” Adam said.  “Hey, listen, man.  I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, having him there when your brother’s gone.  I know the two of you must have a ton of shit to work out between you.  And up until now, you have put your whole life on hold for me.  You even risked your neck, letting me cast a spell on you to send you flying into another dimension!  So if you need some time with Hunter Dean now?  I get that.  Take the time you need, and I’ll cover for you.  I can give you a couple of days, ok?”

            Adam understood.  Adam would cover for him, let him stay with Dean.  Sam sagged in relief, leaning heavily on the sink.  “Th-thank you,” Sam managed.  His lips seemed numb.  His legs wobbled.

            “You got it.  Meanwhile, is there any way I can talk to Blake?”

            Sam heard the longing in Adam’s voice and considered that for a moment.  “Maybe. Adam, let me call you back, alright?”

            “Dude!”

            “It won’t be long, I promise.”  Sam hung up before Adam could protest again and quickly dialed the main number for the landline at Blake and Adam’s house at the ranch.

            An unfamiliar voice answered. “Shelton-Levine residence, may I help you?”

            Sam pinched his nose and disguised his voice. “I’m a Matthew Gravener, a client of Sam Winchester's?” he ad libbed, naming one of his more aggravating clients. “It’s very important that I speak to him.”

            “Oh.  Sure.”

            Sam waited, heart pounding, certain he’d somehow been found out.  But a moment later, he was hearing his own voice on the phone.  “Sam Winchester speaking.”

            “Are we being recorded or listened to?  I’m a client talking to my attorney, and that means no one can listen in!”

            “No, they’re turning off the tap now, it’s ok. And I’ve taken the cordless phone and moved away for privacy.  But I’m really not in any place that I can help you with your legal issues right now, Mr. Gravener.  Could you perhaps talk to one of the other partners?”

            Sam went back to his usual voice.  “It’s me.  Sam Winchester.”

            His other self sucked in his breath.  “Oh, thank God!  I let them think I’m you so I could come in with Blake.  B-but I didn’t know how bad the legal shit had gotten! And now I have to play along, because what the hell else can I do?!”

            Sam frowned in irritation.  “Sam, how the hell did that even happen?  You’re not qualified to be legal counsel, so why would you tell people you were?!”

            “I didn’t actually say anything, they just drew their own conclusions!  I mean, I knew about you, obviously, and I needed to get back with Blake, but he was surrounded by police!  So I took a chance and just walked out and let them believe I was you!”

            “That was ballsy,” Sam confessed, impressed in spite of himself.

            “There’s still cops and reporters everywhere!” Hunter Sam continued.  “Blake and I are practically prisoners here!  Now everyone expects me to be defending Adam and Cass, and I am in way over my head!  Sam, you gotta get back out here!”

            Sam sighed.  “Yeah, I kind of got that impression, that you were in over your head, just based on how insistent Adam was that I contact you.  Listen, I’ll give you my number.  Get a pre-paid cell phone of your own and call me so we can work together.”

            “W-work together?  You want me to help with the legal stuff?!  Listen, um, I was pre-law at Stanford, but I didn’t graduate and I sure as hell didn’t pass the bar!  I can’t keep…”

            “Sam, shut the fuck up, ok?!”  When his other self went silent, Sam continued.  “I need to be in two places at the same time right now, so this is working out perfectly.  If you were in pre-law and I help you, then you should be able to fudge your way through the initial bullshit.  I’ll do the bulk of the paperwork from where I’m at.  All you’ll have to do is file it, look stern, and advise Blake not to give any statements!”

            “Uh...”

            “Now we can’t work out legal strategy right this second,” Sam continued over top of him, “but we’ll do it once you have a private phone. Meanwhile, you need to call Adam.” Sam rattled off the number.  “Give him a call, making sure the cops know it’s legal business.  That means they can’t legally listen in!  Then let Blake talk to him, alright?  Do that as soon as I hang up.  I’ll be in touch.”

            “Y-you’re seriously going to just let this continue?! You…”

            Sam gritted his teeth.  “Sam, shut the fuck up and just do it, alright?!”

            “Geez, Sam!” Hunter Sam exclaimed.  “You don’t have to be such a dick to me, alright?! I trusted you before, when you told me not to tell Dean, and you were right.  Regardless of how things turned out in the end with my brother and that damned hex bag?  Whatever you did over there, it saved Blake!  So I’ll trust you now.”  He sighed. “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have argued with you.  I guess I always did have some trouble trusting in myself sometimes.”

            Sam gripped the edge of the sink.  “I’m sorry I yelled at you.  We’re both under a tremendous amount of stress right now. But you can do this, Sam!  I’ll help you.  Let the police think it’s legal business so they don’t listen in, and then let Blake talk to Adam.  But just for a few minutes, no more than five at the max!  Then get a phone and call me.”

            “Alright.  Do what you gotta do.”  The hunter paused.  “Hey, Sam, is my brother still with you?  Can I talk to him?”

            Nope, he wasn’t going there.  “Dean’s fine, and you really need to get off the phone before someone gets suspicious.  Just do what I tell you, alright?”

            “Um, yeah, sure.  Tell Dean I’m fine, would you?  You know how he worries!  Sorry you gotta deal with two of those jerks!  Later.”

            Sam hung up.  Hunter Sam didn’t know Sam’s brother was dead.  So of course, he wouldn’t suspect anything.  The immediate trust his other self had displayed made him feel sick.  _Well, Winchester, if there was any doubt about which of you is the better man?  I think that just settled it!_

            Sam clutched at the sink, looking into his own eyes and seeing the guilt there.  Hunter Sam seemed to be a genuinely good person.  Would he be so kind if he knew what Sam was really doing? He doubted it.

            Self-loathing rose until Sam headed back into the stall and dry heaved.  Then he stumbled out, rinsed his mouth out, and splashed water on his face.  Once more, he looked at his reflection.  The green eyes that stared back at him accused him. It was like coming face to face with Hunter Sam.  “Let me have this,” he begged the stranger in the mirror.  “Let me have just a little time, just long enough to take him home and tell him the truth.  Let me tell him what I never had the chance to tell my brother!  Then I swear I’ll bring him back!  I swear it!”

            Sam believed what he was saying.  But the green eyes he saw in the mirror were full of doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said Hunter Sam is a dumbass. Lawyer Sam is digging himself in real deep. Can’t believe him. “I get why he’s doing it, but, geez louise, man, you’re…” *shakes head* Doesn’t think Lawyer Sam realizes the level of trouble he is in here. Dean can literally kill him! He also liked that when the author got to the part where Lawyer Sam was pinching his nose to disguise his voice, she did the same as she read his dialogue. Says she should read like that all the time.


	9. Conflicts and Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake finally gets a chance to speak with Adam and arrange a meeting. Hunter Sam learns the fate of this world's Dean.

            “They’re watching me, Rockstar,” Blake told his husband.  “Ironic as shit!  They were after you in the first place because they thought you murdered me. Now they’re watching me because they think you’re running around with a serial killer!”

            “I’ll deal with that soon enough,” Adam replied.  “Once I work things out with Sam Winchester.”

            “Yeah, about that.”  Blake cleared his throat.  “The Sam Winchester I have here with me?  He’s from the other world!”

            “I know.  I already talked to Lawyer Sam, and Bobby Singer said Hunter Sam was with you.”

            “Bobby’s there with you?”  Blake grinned.  “Hot damn, that’s good to hear!  I mean, I’m sorry he’s in the wrong universe, but at the same time, I’m glad he’s here, you know?  You’ll love that old coot!”

            “I’m sure.  He already apparently kidnapped my band, and...  Wait, you said Hunter Sam’s with you?  Why would he...?”  Adam sucked in his breath.  “Holy shit, is Hunter Sam pretending to be Lawyer Sam?!  Dammit, Blake, does he have any idea what he’s doing?!”

            Blake eyed Hunter Sam.  “Don’t worry, the real McCoy called us and is working with Hunter Sam,” Blake told Adam. “But apparently, he’s got something going on, so for now, Lawyer Sam’s literally going to be in two places at the same time!”

            “Yeah, well, I just hope Hunter Sam’s half as smart as Lawyer Sam is,” Adam grumbled.  “Otherwise, we’re going to be in some seriously deep shit!”

            “Why?” Blake asked.  “Think they’ll arrest Hunter Sam for impersonating a lawyer?”

            “It’s not the police I’m worried about, Blake!  There’s a hunter floating around named Arthur Ketch.  He already made us lock up Castiel for a bit…”

            _“What?”_

            “Yeah.  Right now, with the rest of us on the run, you’re the only one Ketch can contact. That means sooner or later, he’s going to show up there!  For reasons that may be obvious, I’m worried what will happen if he figures out that Hunter Sam isn’t Lawyer Sam!”

            Blake frowned.  “I see the concern.  They told me I was a unicorn when I was in their world, and now it’s their turn.”

            “Castiel said something similar, about a lot of monsters and shit having interest in him because he’s from another reality?”

            “Yeah.  Ok, I’ll remind him to be careful.”

            “Do that.  You got Lawyer Sam’s number?”

            “Yup!”

            “Keep it handy.  If worse comes to worst, Lawyer Sam can claim Hunter Sam’s his identical twin and maybe hold Ketch off for a bit.  But I’m worried, Blake!”

            “Don’t worry about Hunter Sam,” Blake soothed.  “The guy hunts monsters!  He can handle anything that gets thrown at him!”

            “Hunting monsters isn’t the same as preparing a legal defense, Blake,” Adam pointed out.  “Your guy may have the brawn, but mine’s got the brains, ok?  Dammit!  I really wish Lawyer Sam was here!”

            “I hear you, but trust me.  Hunter Sam’s a beast of a fighter, but he’s smart as hell, too.  Don’t worry about things here.  He’s got it for now.”  He shot Sam a wink and got a small smile in return.  Then he paused.  “Where is Lawyer Sam, anyway?  You got any idea what he’s up to?”

            “Probably Dean,” Adam told him. 

            “Oof, I can only imagine,” Blake sighed.  “Hunter Dean is a handful!  I can’t imagine this world’s version of him is much better!  What is this world’s version of Dean anyway?  Mechanic?”

            “This world’s version of Dean is dead,” Adam explained gently.  “That’s why I think Lawyer Sam needs a bit of time. He’s also got marriage problems and is way too close to losing his wife and kids.  The stress on this guy’s shoulders is unbelievable!  And Hunter Dean really threw him when he traveled to save you, Blake.  He was a wreck when he came back!  I think he was real close to his brother.  It hurt him bad when Dean died.  Now he’s got his dead brother right in his face again, and in this reality, with all this other shit going on?  Yeah, give the guy some time, ok?”

            “Aw, hell.”  Blake sat down heavily, eyeing Hunter Sam, who cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Well, shit!  You sure that’s a good idea, to leave them together considering all that?”

            “The poor guy put his entire life on hold to help me, Big Country.  So if he needs some private time with Hunter Dean, I say we give it to him.  Sam’s a great guy!  And when this is done, why don’t we see if we can’t keep him on, do as much for him as we can?”

            “Yeah, definitely.”  He glanced at Hunter Sam, who was still watching him warily.  Blake was going to have to break that news to him, that Dean was dead in this dimension.  He was not looking forward to it.

            “Meanwhile, Bobby will be really glad to know that Hunter Sam is ok.”

            “Yeah, he’s just fine.”  Blake glanced again at the man in question.  “He’s here timing this and trying not to listen in.  It’s you I’m worried about.”  His voice grew soft.  “How are you, Rockstar?”

            Blake heard Adam whimper.  “I thought I’d be in your arms by now, Big Country, but I can’t even see you!  Castiel came up with a plan to try to protect the two of us.  But Ketch is probably gunning for us hard by now, us and the hunters!  He’s bound to show up there.  Be real careful, Blake!  Bobby hates the guy and said not to trust him.  Don’t let him get his hands on Hunter Sam!  He already tried to tie Castiel down.  Given the chance, I’m afraid he’ll do something to all four of these guys!”

            “So we don’t tell him anything!  Gives him no reason to come near the Unicorn Gang if he doesn’t know they exist, right?”

            “But he was there at the park, Blake!  He saw everyone come through, so he probably knows they’re here.  He probably even knows there’s two Sam Winchesters!  That’s why I’m worried.  You two need to convince Ketch that Hunter Sam is Lawyer Sam, or God knows what he’ll do.  You gotta protect him!”

            “Got it.  Bastard won’t lay a finger on Hunter Sam, not on my watch!”  He looked up to see Hunter Sam making hurry-up motions and grimaced. “I gotta go.  I love you, Adam.  And I’ll see you soon, I swear it!”

            “Blake, wait!  I need to see you, I don’t care anymore!”

            Blake’s hand tightened on the phone.  “I need to see you, too, Adam, but I can’t have you thrown in jail!”

            “It’s going to be a bit harder to lock me up right now, Big Country!  I kind of need to stay mobile until we can get everyone back where they belong, especially Castiel!  But I can come to you without getting caught.   And I will!  You just give me a time and place.”

            Blake turned away and lowered his voice once more.  “Our room, midnight tonight?” he offered.  “Can you do that?”

            “Yes.  I’ll be there.”

            “You just be damned careful!”

            “I will.”

            “I love you, Adam!”

            “I love you too, Blake!”

            Hanging up was probably the hardest thing Blake had ever done.  He managed a smile as he handed the phone back to Sam. “Thanks, buddy,” he said.

            “Sure, no problem.”  The green eyes radiated sympathy.  “I hope that helped?”

            “More than you can know.”  _And it will be even better at midnight tonight,_ he thought to himself.  Keeping his face expressionless, he asked, “You know of a guy named Arthur Ketch?”

            Sam’s handsome face twisted in disgust.  “Unfortunately, yes.  He’s with the British branch of the Men of Letters, the guys who made our bunker? And he’s nothing but trouble!  Bobby kicked his ass clear back across the ocean, but not until he came way too close to taking over the entire organization of hunters in America.  Let me guess – he’s here, and up to the same tricks?”

            “Well, I can’t speak to his tricks, but yeah.  He’s here,” Blake confirmed.  “We’re supposed to watch out for him.  Apparently he locked up Castiel!  How the hell...?”

            “There’s ways,” Sam said glumly.  “And I can absolutely see Ketch doing that!  That bastard has no respect at all for non-humans.  In our world, he treated Cass kind of like an animal. They all did!  First time they met, it was, ‘You, angel!  Wipe their memories!’ like Cass was just a servant he could command.  Pissed us off right from the start.”  He sighed. “So I assume Ketch will come after me if he finds out who I really am, huh?”

            Blake nodded.  “And we’re not letting him have you.  Looks like you gotta play lawyer a while longer, buddy.  Adam’s worried this Ketch guy will do something to you if he finds out you’re from the other universe.”

            “Of that, I have no doubt.”  Sam brushed his shaggy hair back out of his eyes.  “Blake, you need to know that we’re walking on the edge of a knife here!  I’m not sure why Lawyer Sam isn’t coming here, but we kind of need him.  I can’t keep doing this!  I didn’t graduate college, I was only ever pre-law, and sooner or later, I am going to slip up!”

            “I know, and I hate to ask you to keep pretending like this,” Blake sighed. “But right now, especially if this guy’s after you?  We don’t have a choice!  Hang in there, buddy.  You’ve done a hell of a job so far!  Sure told those FBI fuckers what was what earlier, didn’t you?”

            “All I did was point out that, unless they were planning to arrest you for something, they couldn’t force you to remain in custody,” Sam said with a shrug. “And that they couldn’t stay in the house without a warrant.  Didn’t help much when they came back with that warrant, did it?”

            “Protective custody,” Blake growled.  “What a crock of shit!”

            “They still can’t force you to stay in the house.  All they can do is tap the phones and monitor the computer usage and follow you around.  They can’t lock you up, and they can’t legally listen in if I make it clear that it’s a client.  So we can still communicate a little!”

            “We overuse it, and they’re gonna catch on,” Blake grumbled.  “Those bastards aren’t stupid!”

            “It’s not the FBI I’m worried about.  It’s Ketch!  We really can’t risk communicating too much like this because that bastard will not care if it’s a client.  We gotta find another way to communicate!”  The hunter rubbed at his temples.  “Let me work on it.”

            “One more thing.”  Blake took a deep breath.  “Sam, Adam says your brother is fine, and he’s spending some time with Lawyer Sam…”

            “I know, I talked to him, remember?  Lawyer Sam, that is, not Dean.  Kind of wish he’d have let me talk to Dean, but he seemed kind of excited and rushed.”

            “Did he tell you that his version of Dean is dead?”

            Blake saw that hit like a blow.  Sam actually winced and doubled over, his eyes going wide.  “Dead?  Lawyer Sam’s Dean is _dead_?!”

            “Yeah.  And I kind of get the feeling that the two of them were close, maybe even as close as you and Hunter Dean.  That’s why we’re trying to give him his space.  Guy’s got a hell of a lot on his plate right now.  He may need a little time with your Dean, buddy.  Dean’s an asshole, but I think Lawyer Sam can use that heart of gold he’s got!”

            Blake wasn’t sure what to expect.  But he didn’t expect the sudden anger in the green eyes.  “Oh, is that so?  So we’re here, risking prison or worse while I pretend to be my lawyer self, just so he can play family with _my_ brother?!”  He shook his head, shaggy hair flying.  “Nuh uh. That’s bullshit, Blake!  He’s getting his ass over here, and he’s bringing my brother back!”

            Blake was taken aback.  “Sam, what the hell?  Why are you acting like this?”

            The hunter had his phone out, his lips pinched into a tight line.  “I’m calling him.  He needs to bring my brother back and act like a damned lawyer!”

            Blake quickly put his hand over the phone.  When Sam glared at him, he spoke quietly.  “Sam, his brother is dead.  I don’t know the circumstances, but try to put yourself in his shoes.  Is it really asking so much to let him have just a little time?”

            “Yes, Blake, it is!” Sam snapped, uncharacteristically waspish.  “Dean is not this guy’s brother, alright?  It’s ridiculous to step back and let him play pretend!  We need Dean back here.”

            Blake frowned.  “I didn’t hear Dean objecting?”

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “Of course not!  It’s Dean! As soon as he found out his other self was dead, he probably volunteered to babysit this guy!”  He nodded rapidly, his eyes fixed on Blake.  “You watch, Blake!  When Dean comes back, he’ll jump right down my throat for not ‘giving him time’ or some shit like that.  Then, h-he’ll wait on this guy hand and foot, just like he’s probably doing right now, and expect me to do the same!”

            Blake sighed.  “Sam…”

            Sam held up a hand to him.  “Blake, all due respect, but stay the hell out of this, alright?!”  He quickly dialed, turning away from Blake as Blake went for his phone, and brought it to his ear.  “This son of a bitch is bringing my brother back, and he’s bringing him back right fucking now!”

            “Sam!”  Blake grabbed the younger man’s phone and quickly shut it off.  “You’re being selfish, and that’s not like you!  What the hell’s the matter with you?”

            “Nothing, Blake!  Is it really asking so much that this asshole stops screwing around with my brother and does what he’s getting paid for?  How is that selfish?!”

            “How is it not?  His brother’s dead!  What’s it hurt to...?”

            The green eyes flashed in fury.  “Dean is _my_ brother, Blake!  Mine, not his!”

            Blake narrowed his eyes.  “Sammy? I get that you two haven’t had anything except each other all your lives.  I get that you’re close, closer than any brothers I’ve ever met.  But for God’s sake, grow up!  Dean is not abandoning you, Sam!  If he’s fine with staying with Lawyer Sam, then you don’t have any right to start acting childish and jealous that big brother is playing with another kid, alright?  The guy lost his brother!”

            “That doesn’t mean he gets mine!  You remember Adam from my world?” Sam reminded.  “Blake, you exist over there, too!  How would you feel if that other you came over here, moved in on your Adam?!”

            “If I was dead?” Blake replied calmly.  “I’d be happy about it, Sam.  Because that would mean someone was taking care of the man I loved.  It would mean Adam’s gonna be ok without me!  And that’s all that matters!  Now Dean’s doing that for Lawyer Sam.  And you don’t have any right to interfere!”

            Sam processed that.  Then he shook his head.  “I’m sorry, but I just don’t like it.  If nothing else, Dean should have talked to me when Lawyer Sam called.  It just feels like something’s wrong!  Call me selfish or childish or whatever you want…”

            “It is selfish and childish, Sam!  It’s damned selfish and childish!  Because Lawyer Sam didn’t just lose his brother, ok?  Adam just told me he’s also having problems with his marriage. He’s about to lose his wife and kids, too!”

            Sam blinked.  “He’s got a wife and kids?”

            “Had,” Blake corrected.  “Sounds like things are pretty bad there.”

            Blake saw a flush rise in the hunter’s cheeks.  “Then he’s got everything, everything I’ve ever wanted!  He’s not getting my brother, too!”

            Blake sputtered.  “Do you even hear yourself?!  This is _you_ that you’re talking about here!  You’re actually jealous of yourself!”  He shook his head, disgusted.  “Sam, come on, buddy, you’re better than this!  Now Dean obviously is willing to be there for Lawyer Sam, and I’d bet this ranch that you’re the reason why!  Dean’s a son of a bitch, but I’ve never seen anyone care more for his little brother than he cares for you.  Lawyer Sam’s going through hell!  I know!  I’ve been there, divorce, and having kids in the mix must make it even worse.  After my last divorce, I would have fallen completely apart if it hadn’t been for Adam!  So if having your brother there, just for a couple of days, helps?  Then you need to be the better man and let Dean go!”

            The hunter seemed to deflate.   “He’s all I’ve got,” Sam said quietly.  “If anything happened to him…?”

            “Lawyer Sam’s got no one,” Blake reminded.  “And if anything was wrong with Dean, he’d call Cass, and you know Cass would come running!  Nothing’s wrong with your brother, Sam.  The only one acting wrong here is you!”

            That made Sam wince.  He nodded. “Alright.  I still feel like something’s wrong here, Blake, and I honestly don’t think it’s just jealousy.  But I’ll back off for now.”

            Blake pulled him into a tight hug.  “You’re a good man, Sam Winchester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he understands where Sam’s coming from. Thinks he would feel the same way if it was his brother. For all we know, he’s... doing exactly what he’s doing! Agrees with Blake’s sentiment, but disagrees with him telling Sam not to worry because they know nothing about Lawyer Sam. It’s interesting that Mr. Fun and Nutcracker each took a different stance with this. Nutcracker felt that Lawyer Sam should have his time with Dean, and Mr. Fun sides with Hunter Sam!


	10. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake finally meets up with Adam for a long-overdue reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter ahead!  
> Artwork by our lovely Nutcracker!

            After that, there wasn’t much to do.  The FBI had largely isolated Blake, much to the dismay of Blake’s friends and family.  There was little he could do about it, though.  Blake was experiencing the longest day of his life as he waited for the time to pass.  All he could think about was Adam.  He’d gone about the rest of his day in a daze, wary of the constant presence of FBI agents and police both inside and out of the ranch house.  The press had been held back, but a mob with cameras was outside, with helicopters and drones buzzing overhead.  It was a lot even for Blake to deal with.  Hunter Sam was starting to look a little wild-eyed.

            How? How could Adam get in through all this? Blake himself was practically a prisoner in his own right, with law enforcement keeping a constant watch over him. Their excuse was that they were “protecting” Blake from his kidnappers, even though it was obvious to everyone they were watching for Adam to show up.  And now Adam actually did plan to turn up!  The whole thing was making Blake’s stomach churn.  All he wanted was Adam.  At this point, if going to jail was the price to get his hands on his husband, well, that was a price Blake was willing to pay.

            Besides, Hunter Sam’s ruse as Lawyer Sam was coming in handy.  It meant the hunter could accompany Blake when he’d been whisked off by the FBI to tell his story.  Blake had given them a fairly accurate description of Crowley, painting him as the ringleader in Blake’s kidnapping.  He’d included Rowena as his wife just out of spite.  Then he’d added in the descriptions of the vampires he’d fought on the other side, when he’d first saved Sam and Dean, as members of the group that had abducted him.  Using actual people had allowed Blake to provide a believable level of detail, right down to an accurate sketch of Crowley.  Let the FBI look for the bastard.  Too bad they wouldn’t find him.  Then Hunter Sam had done a great job of getting indignant and lawyerly about letting Blake return to his own home, rather than being taken to a safehouse. It was, Blake was sure, the only reason he was here at the ranch right now.

            Blake had made a show of wanting to go to bed early.  Then he’d dragged Hunter Sam into his room and the two of them had torn it apart, searching for any bugs, hex bags, or anything else that might betray Adam’s presence.

            “Did he say how he planned to get in?” Sam wanted to know.

            “No,” Blake replied.  “But he sounded pretty confident.  I thought maybe Cass was going to help us out?”

            “Well, that would work, normally,” Sam mused.  “But since Cass got his wings burned off, they’d have to come out here by normal means.  Cass could still probably get Adam in and out without being seen, though.  I’d put my money on him.”

            “Sorry, but if he pulls this off, I’m kissing that angel,” Blake declared. “Dean can punch me for it later.” He smiled as Sam chuckled.  “Ya think those two got together by now? Dean and Cass?”

            “Maybe, maybe not,” Sam said.  “Dean’s got the same runes carved into his ribs as I do, the ones we tattooed onto you?”

            “You mean the tattoo you gave me that you didn’t mention I was going to get when you took me for the anti-possession one?!”  Blake was still a little grumpy about that one.

            “That’s the one!” Sam said, grinning.  “Point is, it means we’re hidden from the angels, including Cass. Lawyer Sam would have had to tell Cass where he’s got Dean, and God knows where Cass and Adam ended up after Cass got banished.  Especially if Cass is close enough to us to bring Adam here and, I’d assume, bring him back?  I’m thinking it hasn’t happened yet.”  He frowned. “I just wish I knew what was going on with Lawyer Sam and my brother, Blake.  I came back to myself in my world to Lawyer Sam’s voice echoing ‘Don’t tell him’ in my head, which is why I never told you guys what had happened.”

            “I’m still sore about that, Sam,” Blake told him.  “And your brother is going to be seriously pissed off when he finds out!”

            Sam shrugged.  “Hardly the first time Dean’s been pissed at me.  But I don’t regret it.  Between the note he’d left me and that damned hex bag around Dean’s neck, it was pretty clear that Lawyer Sam had done something significant while letting everyone think he was me.  I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  And he saved your life, Blake, so I guess he earned my trust.  But I can’t help but feel uneasy that he’s not bringing my brother back. And the way he sounded on the phone today?  He was so hostile to me when we talked!”  Sam shook his head.  “Something’s going on with him, Blake.  I don’t like that he’s keeping my brother wherever he is and making me pretend to be him here.  And don’t give me that look, ok?  I’m allowed to be worried about Dean!  He should have talked to me!  Why didn’t Lawyer Sam just put him on the phone?”

            Blake sat down on the bed and considered this.  “Well, if you were him, and you kind of are, and something was wrong with Dean?” Blake suggested.  “Wouldn’t you tell yourself?”

            “Actually, I would be the last person on Earth I would tell, especially if I needed me to handle things while I took care of Dean!” Sam declared. “Because I know I’d drop everything and run to my brother!”  Sam clutched Blake’s arm.  “I think something’s wrong with Dean, Blake.  I-I’m almost sure of it!  Dean would have gotten the worst of it when Cass got banished and your links got jerked the way they did.  What if he’s seriously hurt?”  The green eyes grew wide.  “Dammit, Blake, I want to know what’s going on with my brother!”

            Blake frowned.  “Ok, calm down.  When Adam and Cass get here, all we gotta do is ask them to check in.  Cass, he’s an angel, so if Dean’s hurt, he can cure him, right?  Lawyer Sam’s smart enough to have thought of that!  So once again, if Cass is coming here, it seems to me that Dean is fine!” He gave the younger man a gentle smile. “Don’t buy trouble, Sammy.  I get that it’s hard for you, Dean being with Lawyer Sam.  You sure you’re not reading signs that aren’t there?”

            Sam wilted.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.  Thanks, Blake.”

            “I know, I’m smarter than I look, I hear it all the time.”  Blake clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “So, we think this room’s pretty much bug free?”

            “Well, there’s nothing we can do about any long-range microphones, or the physical presence of the FBI here at the house,” Sam pointed out.  “So, you know, try to keep it quiet?”  Seeing Blake’s grin, Sam rolled his eyes.  “Contain your enthusiasm, Shelton.  And I really do not need to know any details!”

            The grin only widened.  “You sure, Sammy?  I can tell ya all about it!”

            Sam groaned.  “Oh, go to hell, Blake!” 

            “Oh, get over here, you!”

            The hunter let himself be pulled into a hug.  He even tolerated Blake planting a kiss on his cheek, although he made a face.  “Dude, your universe is so bizarre!”

            “Nah, that’s just me,” Blake confessed, completely unrepentant.  “I lied when I said that it’s traditional for men to kiss each other in my universe.  I just love pissing people off.”

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “Not really surprised, Blake.”

            “Yeah, I figured.  Go get some rest, buddy.”

            “You too.  Try to get at least some sleep, ok?  And be careful!  You guys absolutely cannot be caught, no matter what!”

            Blake nodded, solemn.  “You’re right next door, right?”

            “Right.  Keep your cell phone on, and I’ll text you if there’s any sign of trouble.”

            Blake grinned again.  “Sure you don’t want any hot pictures?”

            Sam gave him the finger as he headed out the door.

            Blake chuckled as he watched him go.  Part of him was secretly glad that the hunter was here.  Now that Blake had a better idea of what was out there, the devil’s trap gylphs and other precautions Sam had helped him discretely set up in the house made Blake feel considerably more secure.  Besides, he’d grown fond of Hunter Sam.  He couldn’t deny that he was also worried about Dean, but what he’d said about Cass was true.  Plus, there was old wildcard Bobby Singer out there somewhere.  Blake was sorry the three men and their angel were stuck over here, especially since he had a bad feeling the arrangement might be permanent. But at the same time, he was selfishly glad he didn’t have to say goodbye to them yet.  And he couldn’t wait to actually meet the angel!  Blake’s first encounter with Castiel hadn’t gone well at all. But the more he’d heard about Cass, the more Blake had wanted to formally meet him.  The simple novelty of chatting with an angel, especially one that was able to deal with the likes of Dean Winchester, intrigued Blake.  He and Dean had shared a lot of stories about the ones they loved, even though Dean was still denying his feelings for the angel at the time.  And Blake felt almost as if he knew Cass personally already.  Dean, he’d come to realize, simultaneously viewed Cass as an incredibly powerful being and almost child-like.  It was an odd and interesting combination.  Blake was looking forward to talking to him. Later.  After he’d been properly reunited with his husband.

            Blake remade the bed and tidied up a bit.  Then he paced around, checked everything one more time.  Salt lines intact on the windows, holy water and weapons nearby, devil’s trap at the doorway.  Nothing would interfere with him and his husband once Adam got there. Now all he needed was for Adam to get there!

            With nothing else to do, Blake finally simply sat back down on the bed again, watching the clock.  When the numbers rolled to 23:59, he stopped and simply stared at it until it finally switched over to four zeroes.  And a moment later, he heard a rustling sound.  His heart skipped a beat.  He whirled around, and there was Adam.

            Adam was standing not two feet away from Blake.  He wore his usual t-shirt, torn jeans and motorcycle boots, and for some reason, he was wearing a light-colored trench coat that seemed somewhat familiar.  His beautiful hazel eyes were shining as he smiled at Blake.  Blake made a small sound, got up, and carefully reached out, almost afraid that his hands would somehow pass through Adam, that Adam was a mirage.  When his hands closed on Adam’s arms, Blake actually moaned.  “Adam!  Oh, Rockstar, it’s really you!”

            “Don’t you ever leave me again, Big Country!”

            And then Adam was in his arms, and Blake was kissing him as if he were dying and Adam was his only hope of survival.  Adam sighed happily into Blake’s mouth.  He wrapped his arms around Blake.  Then, with surprising strength, he picked Blake up, took a few steps forward, and gently deposited the larger man on his back on the bed.

            Blake blinked in surprise.  “You been working out while I’ve been gone?”

            “Don’t want to talk about it right now, just kiss me!”

            Adam was after Blake again, pulling Blake up slightly to meet his kisses, the fingers of one hand intertwined with Blake’s.  Blake cupped the back of Adam’s neck, kissing him fiercely back.  Calm down.  Gotta be smart, protect Adam.  Even with the blinds drawn, there could be shadows visible outside.  The light had to go.  Not breaking the kiss, Blake let go of Adam long enough to reach for the lamp, but it was too far away.  He cursed into Adam’s mouth, flailing towards it.  Adam gave a slight growl, glanced towards the lamp.  The lightbulb exploded with a pop that startled Blake for a moment, leaving only the faint light from outside to illuminate the room.  And then Adam was tugging at his clothes and Blake forgot everything else.

            A moment later, they were both naked.  Blake crawled further back onto the bed.  Adam stayed with him, pushing the larger man back and attacking Blake’s face and neck with kisses.  Blake took hold of Adam’s hips and pulled his pelvis up to where he could grind against the crack of Adam’s ass.  Adam whimpered.  He fumbled for the nightstand, found the lube, and started prepping his entrance even as he continued to pepper Blake with kisses.  Blake grunted as Adam bit down on the base of his neck.  “Don’t mark me, dumbass!” he hissed.  “The cops are gonna know something’s up if I show up with love bites!”

            “Don’t worry about it.”  Adam’s lips moved on Blake’s skin as he spoke, drawing goosebumps.  Apparently deciding that he was prepped enough, Adam raised up, positioned himself, and then slid down.

            Blake’s muffled cry of pleasure mingled with Adam’s, both of them straining to keep as quiet as possible despite the overwhelming sensations.  And then Adam started to move, and Blake had to bite down hard on his lip to keep quiet.  “Oh, Adam, too long, it’s been too fucking long!  You feel so good!”

            Adam’s hands curled around Blake’s shoulders.  He shoved the larger man down with surprising strength, taking control, his lean muscles rippling as he rode his husband.  Blake blinked, surprised again.  In the light of the waning moon, he could see Adam’s face hovering above him. His eyes were closed, his lips opened with his panting breaths.  He was so beautiful Blake could scarcely believe he was really here, really with him, that this wasn’t just a dream.  But no.  He reached up, stroked Adam’s face, and Adam instantly turned his head, kissing Blake’s palm.  Blake nearly cried in joy.  He thrust up his hips, meeting Adam as he came down, and drew a sharp hiss as he brushed against Adam’s prostate.  “Oooo, did we find something?” Blake whispered, repeating the move with the same results.  He reached down and grasped Adam, giving him a firm stroke.  “You know what I miss, Adam?  I miss feeling that heat when you come all over my stomach!”

            Adam bared his teeth in a strangled snarl.  “You miss that?  That what you want, Big Country?”

            Blake squeezed Adam’s cock, grinning as Adam yelped.  “You got a present for me, Rockstar?  Because if we keep this up, I know I got one hell of a gift for you!” With that, he rolled his hips, thrusting towards that special spot inside of Adam even as he stroked again.

            Adam bit his lips to keep from crying out and nearly collapsed, falling forward. Blake caught his shoulders.  He grinned, taking advantage of Adam’s condition to give him a few more good thrusts.  Adam quickly recovered, his eyes shining with Blake’s challenge. Then once again, he started moving, his body tightening on Blake until it was the larger man’s turn to bite his lips to keep silent.

            They kept it up, increasing the pace, both of them breathing in quick gasps as they fought to keep quiet.  Sweaty skin on sweaty skin.  Muscles tensing and releasing in steady rhythm.  Adam’s eyes slipped closed, his hands still on Blake’s shoulders, pressing him down into the bed even as Blake thrust up again and again, meeting Adam’s matching movements above him.  Blake knew he couldn’t last.  Hell, neither one of them could last.  They’d been away from each other for too long.  This was too intense.  After a month of jacking off in the shower to memories of the man that now rode him, there was nothing in any world that could have kept Blake from coming now. He grunted as he came, pumping deep into Adam even as Adam clenched his teeth to still his own cries and the hot liquid splashed onto Blake’s stomach.  Blake panted through his orgasm with his eyes locked on Adam’s face.  And that was how he noticed the movement of something dark and massive in the room.

            For twenty-eight days, Blake had traveled with monster hunters.  In that time, he’d learned of things that he’d never even imagined existed.  More importantly, he’d learned the absolute necessity of reacting immediately.  But when he gasped and tried to throw Adam to the side so he could face whatever was in the room, Blake was surprised to discover he was pinned.  Adam was still holding Blake’s shoulders, pinning him to the bed with unnatural strength, and the smaller man wasn’t letting Blake up.  He was still riding the last sensations of his orgasm, head bowed and shoulders heaving as he panted.  And once again, Blake could see movement in the dim light.  Frantic, Blake pulled at Adam’s hands, shocked at the strength in them. He couldn’t move them an inch. “Adam!” he hissed.  “Let me up!  Something’s here!”

            Adam only moaned.  He was very sensual.  His orgasms had always taken a lot out of him, and this one appeared to be no exception. If anything, it seemed more intense than usual.  Adam wasn’t recovering the way he should be.  The smaller man threw back his head, his eyes still closed.  And again, that movement.  Whatever it was, it was huge, dark, and directly behind Adam.

            Blake was starting to panic now.  He clutched at Adam’s wrists, trying to tear his husband’s hands off of his shoulders.  Nothing. Adam’s impossible strength kept Blake’s shoulders firmly pinned to the bed.  And now, smiling and looking dazed, Adam opened his eyes.  They blazed with blue-white light.

            “A-Adam...?”  Blake froze, wide-eyed, finally recognizing that the dark shapes he was seeing were a set of massive shadowy wings, wings that extended from his husband’s back. They gently fanned once more as Adam took a deep breath and let it out in a content sigh.  Still lost in the afterglow of sex, Adam didn’t seem to have any idea what was happening.

            Blake had just spent twenty-eight days with monster hunters.  Everything he’d learned told him he should scream for Sam, get help from the hunter and the cops downstairs.  But even now, faced with this drastically altered version of his husband, Blake recognized the man he loved.  His _soulmate._   Not even another reality could keep Adam from him.  And as Adam’s eyes grew wide, finally registering his physical state, Blake reached up a hand and gently stroked Adam’s face. “I love you, Adam,” he said simply.  “I love you!”

            The wings drooped.  The glowing eyes grew wide, and then blazed even brighter.  “I love you, Blake!  I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you, and then I was just so glad to see you, and…”

            “Shhh!” Blake soothed.  He carded his fingers through Adam’s hair, and Adam’s eyes went half-lidded as he leaned towards the touch.  “It’s ok, baby.  It’s alright.”

            Adam took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh.  “Thank you.”

            Blake smiled, gently rubbing Adam’s scalp.  “This Cass’s doing?”

            Adam nodded.  The light in his eyes seemed to fill the room as he looked anxiously down at Blake.  “I agreed to it, but, yeah.”

            “So, you’re an angel now?”

            “It’s temporary, but for all intents and purposes?  Y-yeah, kind of?”

            Blake looked over Adam’s shoulders, seeing his husband self-consciously fold back the shadowy wings, which vanished.  Then he looked solemnly at Adam.  “Does this mean I’m the wind beneath your wings?”

            Adam blinked.  Then he snorted.  “You’re the windbag beneath my wings!” he retorted.  And then they were both laughing, trying hard to quiet each other.

            Adam, now back to normal, plopped over onto the bed and grabbed for some tissues so they could clean up.  Blake held him close against his chest, wrapping his arms around Adam.  He listened while Adam explained what had happened, and Castiel’s desperate plan.  Blake digested that for a moment.  Then he told Adam what had gone wrong at the park.  “So now here we are,” Blake finished.  “I’m home, but Hunter Sam, Dean, and Bobby are stuck over here with me. The whole Unicorn Gang’s here, Dean’s angel is in the wind, you’re at least a temporary angel, you’re both wanted for murder, and I don’t know fuck all about what to do about any of it!”

            “That pretty much covers it.”  Adam snuggled against Blake, absently tracing Blake’s chest with the fingers of one hand.

            “It also means I told Hunter Sam an unintentional lie tonight,” Blake sighed. “I told him that if anything was wrong with Dean, Lawyer Sam would have called Cass to help.  But Cass isn’t capable of helping right now, is he?”

            “No,” Adam sighed.  “I guess all the angel stuff is up to me, now.  And I suck at being an angel, Blake!  I really do!  The flying thing is convenient, especially for stuff like this, but I’m kind of glad no one sees me doing it because it honestly feels like I’m just flapping wildly and tumbling head over heels most of the time.  I can’t seem to do that comfort thing Castiel did when you touched him at all! Probably because I’m not Cassiel. Oh, and I have a hell of a time controlling my powers, as you’ve figured out.  Back at the trailer I tried to look into a cupboard and tore the door clear off its hinges!  It looks like I bruised your shoulders, Blake, but I don’t think you realized that yet. Here.”  Adam reached out and touched Blake’s forehead.  “There.  No more bruises, and I even took off the love bite.”

            Blake blinked.  “Thanks!”

            “Don’t mention it.  Back to the subject at hand, no, I don’t know of anything going on with Dean.  I talked to Lawyer Sam, though, and I know it’s gotta be rough on him.  He’s running around with basically his dead brother come to life!  That’s gotta fuck with you a bit.  And I’m sure he’ll have to deal with his wife and kids, too! Poor guy!”  He sighed.  “I’ll go out there in a couple of days if they’re still not back, but unless we have real reason to think Dean’s in trouble?  I really don’t want to bother them.  From what Cass told me, Dean’s kind of an asshole.”

            “Oh, you have no idea!” Blake groaned.  “Believe me, Dean and I have butted heads more than once!  But he’s the most amazing big brother you could ever ask for.  And once he decides he likes you, he’ll literally go through Hell to help you.”  Blake smiled.  “Bottom line, Dean’s a good guy, Ad.  I consider him a good friend, and I can’t wait to introduce you.”

            “Then I think I’m making the right choice.  Lawyer Sam needs Dean now.  I’m not going to interfere.”

            “Fair enough,” Blake agreed.  “And we can assure Hunter Sam of that, too.”  He paused.  “What about Cass?”

            “He’s hiding,” Adam reported.  “Don’t ask me where, Big Country.  Bad enough the law’s after him, but right now, he’s got somewhat greater concerns. Everyone’s after him, Blake, human and otherwise!”

            “The most magical, sparkly rainbow unicorn in all the land,” Blake mused.

            Adam blinked at him.  “What?”

            “Something Dean said about him.  I think I told you how Dean said that a human being in another reality is basically a unicorn, because anything that recognizes that otherness about you is going to want a piece of you?  So if a human’s a unicorn, then an angel...?”

            “A magical sparkly unicorn?”  Adam groaned. “That’s so stupid, Blake!  And yet, it’s surprisingly accurate.”  Adam shifted uncomfortably.  “Castiel knows the danger he’s in.  I gotta trust he knows what he’s doing.  Besides, I think we can agree all around that the less involved we all are with the affairs of angels, the better.”  He shrugged.  “I’m living proof of that!”

            “Alright, now all that other shit’s out of the way, let’s get to the part I’m really concerned about.”  He caught Adam’s chin on the crook of his finger, bringing the hazel eyes up to look at him.  “Adam, are you alright?”

            “No,” Adam confessed.  “I’ve been telling everyone that I’m fine, but I’m not.”  His hand curled on his chest, his eyes wide in the dim light of the room.  “I hate this, Blake!  I hate what it does to me, what it makes me feel, what it makes me into...  I’m not even human anymore!  And I’ll be honest, Big Country.  I’ll never be the same.  The longer it’s inside of me, the more it will change me, and when it’s gone? Well, Castiel warned me that some of those changes could very well be permanent.  From the moment Castiel put this into me, it changed me.  And when this is over, I’ll never be the same again!”

            “I see.”  Blake tightened his arms around Adam, pinching his lips.

            Adam buried his face in Blake’s shoulder and shuddered.  “I want it out of me, Blake!  I agreed to accept it and I’ll keep it as long as I have to, do what I must.  But I want it out of me!  It’s so strong, and I’m scared to death because I have no idea what I’m doing!  I just want to stay here with you, and have everything just go back to how it was.  But I can’t.  I can’t!”

            Blake gently kissed him.  “I’m here, Rockstar,” he soothed.  “Now you gotta go back…”

            “Blake!”

            “Shhh!”  Blake pressed a finger against Adam’s lips, stilling him.  “You’re more than a fugitive from the law.  You’re a unicorn now too, baby, a card-carrying member of the Unicorn Gang.  And you’re in just as much danger as the rest of the gang!  You gotta go back into hiding and keep your head down as much as you can.  And you can’t let this Ketch guy figure out what you are now, or he’ll come after you for sure!  You want to give Lawyer Sam some time with Dean, fine.  Sounds like he’s earned it!  But get in touch with him, get Dean to his angel, and then figure out how you’re going to get out of this legal mess!  Then, once we’ve got your human issues out of the way, we’ll focus on your angel problem.  One thing at a time, alright?  At least the human problems we can potentially solve!”

            Adam nodded, miserable.  “And it’s going to have to be soon.  You’re going to have to call Carson, Blake.  You know we’re due to start filming on ‘The Voice’ again in a few weeks?”

            “Really?”  Blake blinked.  “Holy shit, I hadn’t realized, but you’re right!  How the hell are we going to manage that and still deal with the Unicorn Gang and all the rest of this shit?!”

            “Won’t have to worry about it if I’m in jail,” Adam grumbled.  “Well, at least now no one can fuck with me.”

            Blake stiffened.  “What the hell does that mean?  Someone fucked with you?!  Who?!”

            “Story for another time.”  Adam kissed Blake.  Then he got up and moved quickly in the darkness, dressing.  The darkness seemed no impediment to him.

            Blake sat up and watched him, feeling miserable.  “How are we gonna communicate, Rockstar?  The phones are all tapped and we can’t keep using the lawyer excuse!”

            “Just think hard at me,” Adam called.  “I’m telepathic now, and I’d hear it if you called.  That’s precisely how Castiel is going to call me if he really needs me.  But finding you would be a problem, so you might want to invest in a pre-paid cell phone just to be safe.  I can’t seem to sense you, Blake!”

            Blake indicated his tattoo.  “Little present from Wonderland.”

            Adam’s face broke into a wide grin.  “Holy shit, I can’t believe I forgot to ask you about that!  You got a tattoo?  One that isn’t a badly-drawn depiction of deer feet that looks like ladybugs?”

            Blake gave him the finger.  “First, it’s deer hooves, and second, I wasn’t given much of a choice.  At this rate, I’ll look like you before long, ya little tattooed jackass!  But at least mine are functional.  So, conventional means, huh?”

            “Yeah.  And even with the wardings, I can still come into your dreams, so I guess we can communicate that way, too.  As soon as I figure out how to do that, that is!”  Adam sighed.  “I told you I suck at being an angel!”

            “You’ve always been an angel to me.”

            Adam looked at him.  Then he crawled back onto the bed and made his way up to Blake, where he gave his husband a passionate kiss.  “Thank you for this.”

            “Hey, happy to oblige!”  Blake pulled him close, pulling Adam’s legs around to tuck the smaller man into his chest and hold him tight.  For a few precious moments, he held his husband, breathing Adam in, letting him sink through his pores.  Blake kissed his head.  “You know, it’s a damned good thing you’re a temporary angel,” he murmured.  “Because I don’t know if anything short of a miracle can get me to let go of you right now!”

            In his arms, Adam trembled.  “Goodbye, Blake,” he whispered.  Then he gently reached up and pulled Blake’s arms away, once again exhibiting his unnatural strength.  Blake couldn’t bite back a small cry as Adam climbed off of the bed and took a step back. “I’ll see you again soon,” he called. “I promise.”

            There was another sound of fluttering wings, and Adam was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.
> 
> Mr. Fun laughed about Blake giving a description of Crowley, said he deserves it. Groaned as usual over the mushy stuff. Said he can’t believe he didn’t see the “wind beneath my wings” thing coming. Says they shouldn’t be sympathetic to Lawyer Sam because he’s being a dick, knows he’s being a dick, and is still doing it.


	11. There's No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After stopping for the night in a motel, Dean is up early, dealing with a couple of issues he's noticed on their trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic music here is "The Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eHkjPCGXKQ

            Led Zeppelin blared through the open windows of the Impala.  Dean tapped his foot in time with the music, carefully maneuvering the wrench.  There. That should take care of that damned knocking.  When they’d pulled into the motel last night, Lawyer Sam had indicated that they still had several hours left of driving before they reached their destination. Dean had no intention of listening to that knock the whole time.  First thing he’d done this morning while Sam did his lawyer thing on his laptop was head over to the maintenance shed and charm his way into borrowing some tools. Now he was hard at work, finishing things up.  “There you go, Honey,” he soothed.  “Good as new!”

            Overall, Dean mused, for a shyster, Lawyer Sam either had a good mechanic or had some skills of his own.  The Impala was in great shape.  She was beautiful, but Dean just couldn’t bring himself to call her Baby.  Honey seemed to suit her much better, he thought. And now her engine should purr. Pleased, he stood up, glanced over, and saw three small children staring at him with wide eyes.  Dean shot them a grin.  Then he brought the wrench up to his mouth like a microphone and started lip synching to Zeppelin.

            _“On we sweep with threshing oar!  Our only goal will be the western shore!”_

            He rocked his hips like Elvis to the delight of the children.  Their mother appeared, rolled her eyes, and quickly got the three back into their room.  Dean laughed. He tossed the wrench back into the borrowed toolbox and looked up to see Lawyer Sam.  The lawyer was leaning against the door of their motel room, smiling fondly at Dean.

            “Couldn’t stand that knock another minute,” Dean offered, leaning back over the engine again.  He shot Sam a wink.  “Lucky for you I’m here.  It’s an easy fix, but you still would have been charged a fortune for it."

            “Of that, I have no doubt.”  Sam came closer and hovered near Dean, watching as Dean finished up.

            “Your brother do much with this girl?” Dean asked casually.

            There it was again, that slight stiffening of the lawyer’s back, the set of his jaw.  “Not lately, no.  But he hasn’t been around.  When he was, he kept this old gal in decent shape.”

            “So who’s your mechanic now?”

            “My wife.  We met in college and she’s an ADA now, but she’s still a grease monkey in her spare time.”

            Dean looked up and grinned.  “Awesome!”

            “And that’s your answer as to why that knock is there,” Sam explained. “Since we’ve had trouble with our marriage and I’ve been driving the Impala, well, she’s not exactly taken a lot of time for maintenance.”  His expression grew troubled.  “Probably a metaphor there.”

            Dean frowned.  He wiped his hands on a rag he’d gotten from the housekeepers and stood up, dancing a bit to the music.  _“So now you better stop and rebuild your ruins!”_ he lip synced, pointing at Lawyer Sam.  _“For peace and trust can win the day despite of all you’re losing!”_

            Sam pinched his lips and nodded.  “Point taken, but Dean, you realize you’ve got an audience behind you?”

            Dean looked and saw three elderly women, watching him with obvious appreciation. Unashamed, Dean waved. “Ladies!  Looking lovely this morning!”

            The three giggled and blushed like young girls, shot Dean a few more approving looks, and went on their way.

            Sam laughed again.  “You’re impossible!”

            “What?  Can’t a guy appreciate beautiful women?”  Dean closed the hood and gestured.  “Come on, get in and start her up!”

            Sam quickly climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Honey started with a purr identical to one Dean knew all too well.  Delighted, Sam smiled up at Dean, who had come around near the driver’s side window. “Nice job, Dean!”

            “What can I say?  When you’re good, you’re good!”

            “And modest, of course?”

            “It’s hard to be humble when you got it going on this much, Sam.”  Dean slapped his hand on the roof.  “You done with all your lawyer shit?  Proud of you, buddy, but that looked boring as hell.”

            “Yup!  It’s on its way to my firm, to be put onto our official letterhead and electronically filed.”

            “Awesome!  Then are you ready to get back on the road?”

            “Sure am!  Let me go check us out.”  Sam switched off the engine and climbed out.  “You mind tossing my bag in the back?”

            “No problem.  Do me a favor, since you’re going to the lobby anyway, and return this toolbox? Tell whoever’s at the desk to thank Joe again for me.”

            “Sure!”  Sam picked up the toolbox and headed in.

            Dean stood where he was, acting like he was watching Sam walk way.  His attention was fixed on the mirror-like reflection from the motel room window.  Parked next to Honey was a red Camaro with white racing stripes.  Dean had noticed it before, parked outside of the diner where they’d stopped to eat.  He hadn’t seen it last night, but now here it was again.  The driver was a big hulking dark-complected man with a shaved head. Dean had come out here this morning to fix Honey specifically to get a look at the guy.  While it was certainly possible Skinhead was just traveling a similar route, Dean had been hunting too long not to take notice of things like this. His instincts were usually good. Something about this guy was off.

            For his part, Skinhead hadn’t appeared to be paying Dean any attention at all. The problem with that was that Dean hadn’t appeared to pay any attention to Skinhead either, and yet he’d been watching the guy all morning.  So far, all he’d done was head to the complimentary breakfast just after Dean stopped in to grab a bite, go back to his room while Dean worked on Honey, and now he appeared to be packing to leave, just as Dean was doing.  If he’d gone into the lobby, Dean would have gone with Sam.  Now Dean quickly grabbed Sam’s bag and tossed it into the back seat of the Impala.

            “Nice car.”

            Skinhead had come up behind Dean.  Dean, who had been monitoring his progress in Honey’s windows, feigned surprise. “Geez, dude!  Warn a guy before you come sneaking up on him!  Thanks, by the way.”

            Skinhead smiled.  “Sorry, I’m a sneaky bastard.  Hey, I saw you under the hood earlier.  You a mechanic?”

            “Yup!”  Dean patted Honey fondly.  “No one touches my girl but me.”

            “Cool.  Hey, I wondered if you could help me out,” Skinhead began.  “You’re obviously a guy who knows a lot about classic cars, and I’m looking to buy.”

            Dean clicked his tongue.  “Honey’s not for sale, dude, sorry.”

            “Oh? That’s actually too bad, but it’s not what I was about to ask you.”  He jerked a thumb towards the open door of his motel room.  “I’ve got pictures and specs of a car I’m looking at.  It’s a classic Mustang, and a beauty!  But I don’t know enough to really know if I’m getting a good deal.  Think you could take a look?”

            Go into a motel room with a strange man who had more than likely followed them, probably all the way from the hospital.  One who was at least as tall as Sammy, and built like a professional wrestler.  This guy clearly believed he was a complete idiot.  Fine.  Dean gave Skinhead his best guileless smile.  “Sure!  Always glad to show off the skills a little, and better if I can help a guy out at the same time.”

            “Great!”  Skinhead clasped Dean’s shoulder and started steering him towards the room.  “This will only take a moment, and I really appreciate it.”

            Dean allowed himself to be led into the man’s room.  He forced his muscles to relax, even as he remained alert, ready for the imminent attack.

            Skinhead led Dean inside, closing the door behind them, and indicated a laptop on the bed.  “The site’s up.  Take a look, tell me what you think!”

            Amateur hour.  The moment Dean started towards the laptop, Skinhead was trying to catch him in a chokehold.  Dean expertly ducked under it, delivered a few quick, precise hits, and Skinhead was out like a light.

            Dean did a quick check of the room, making sure Skinhead didn’t have a partner lurking.  Then he collected the man’s wallet, keys, and, after considering for a moment, the laptop.  He glanced at the screen and saw his own face looking back at him.

            He quickly read over the information being displayed.  He glanced over at the man, and then moved the mouse.  This brought up another picture, one that took Dean’s breath away.

            Dean’s nerdy angel looked so drastically different that for a moment, all Dean could do was blink in surprise.  He took in the leather jacket, the sunglasses, the new clothing.  Then he tore his eyes away long enough to take in the information being displayed along with the picture.  The number made him pale.

            “Dean?  Where are you?!”

            Sam, back from checking them out.  He sounded a bit frantic as he jogged into their room, still calling for Dean.  Meanwhile, Skinhead was groaning on the floor, coming around.  Dean quickly moused back to his own picture, moved to the bathroom, pried open the case with his angel blade and left the laptop in the shower with the water running. Best he could do.  It was probably lo-jacked anyway.  Stepping over Skinhead, Dean joined Sam, coming up behind the puzzled lawyer.  “Hey!”

            Sam turned and gave a sigh of relief.  “Dean!  Thank God! Where did you go?!  I thought something happened to you!”

            “Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” Dean assured. 

            “Did you forget that you just had a serious head injury?!” Sam reminded. “The doctor said there could still be residual side effects!  I thought you’d passed out, or got confused and wandered off somewhere!”

            Dean shrugged.  “Nope! Just got distracted, sorry.”

            Sam still looked worried.  “Don’t wander off again, Dean, ok?  I was seriously about to freak out!”

            “I’m telling you I’m fine,” Dean insisted.  “Just having a little chat with one of the housekeepers.”  He grinned.  “Come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand!  Honey’s ready to stretch her legs.”

            “Honey?” Sam asked, heading for the Impala.  “Did you just change Baby’s name to Honey?”

            “Baby’s my car,” Dean explained.  “So I’m calling yours ‘Honey.’  It suits her.”

            Sam sighed and settled in behind the wheel.  “That’s nice, Dean.  Just go ahead and rename my car, don’t even ask me!”

            “I’m good at naming things!” Dean defended, climbing into the passenger seat. “I even named a new race of monsters we discovered once!”

            “Oh?”  Sam looked interested now, glancing over at Dean as he put Honey into gear.  “What were they?”

            “These freaky-ass hybrids,” Dean explained.  “Part of an experiment to create a bigger badder monster.  They were, like, a cross between vampires and wraiths.  They had vamp teeth and a wraith spike in their wrists, and were tougher than them both. Nasty fuckers.  Cass had to put a bunch of ‘em down before they had us, and I almost turned into one.  He had to help me, too.”

            Sam was frowning now, dividing his attention between Dean and backing out of their spot.  “That sounds scary!  What did you name them?”

            “Jefferson Starships!” Dean announced proudly.

            Sam paused, staring at him.  “Jefferson Starships?”

            “Yup!”

            “You found a race of hybrid monsters,” Sam reiterated slowly.  “You almost turned into one.  You got to name them, and you named them...  Jefferson Starships?”

            “What?  They were horrible and hard to kill!”

            Sam stared at him for a long moment.  Then he shook his head, put Honey into gear and started out.

            Skinhead had come to the door of his motel room and was glaring out at Dean. Dean gave him a nod and a big smile. Skinhead’s eyes narrowed.  Message received.

            In retrospect, Dean wished he’d killed the bastard.  Now he’d report back to whoever the hell he was working with that had put out that bounty on Dean and Castiel, and the next time they came after him, they’d be prepared.  But there was nothing to be done for it.  Dean couldn’t do anything to compromise Lawyer Sam, and leaving behind a dead body in the motel room next to his, especially if the guy’s employer knew who he was looking for, was too big of a risk.

            “I talked to Adam this morning while you were working on Ba- on Honey,” Sam said. “Asked him how we can reach Castiel. But he says you’ll have to come see him in person for that, and we can’t do that yet.”

            That got Dean’s attention.  “Why, and why not?”

            “Adam wouldn’t explain, and because it’s not safe.”  The lawyer’s hands tightened on the wheel.  “Dean, listen to me.  You’ve got some really scary people looking for Castiel, and probably you, as well!”

            “I know,” Dean told him.  “I met one back at the motel.  He tried to grab me, so I kicked his ass, knocked him out, and hopefully ruined his computer.  But there’s a bounty on me, Sam, me and Cass both.  And Cass’s is...”  He shook his head.  “Let’s just say for that much I’m half tempted to turn him in myself!”  He glanced at the lawyer.  “Sam, you need to warn Other Me about this.  That bounty on me wasn’t exactly small, either, and it’s dead or alive!  If there’s any chance your brother could get dragged into this, mistaken for me...?”

            “I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” Sam mumbled.  “But I’ll let him know.”  The green eyes glanced over at Dean.  “Y-you got into a fight back at the motel?  When?”

            “Just before we left.  But don’t worry, he won’t be following us.  At least, not easily.”  Dean rolled down the window a bit, pulled out the keys he’d stolen from Skinhead, and tossed them out.

            When he turned back to Sam, he’d intended to assure the lawyer of his safety. He’d already composed his speech in his head, assuring Sam that he’d only stay with him until he could get back to Cass, and would protect the lawyer while he was there.  But Sam was already speaking before he opened his mouth.

            “I’ll protect you, Dean!” Sam vowed.  “I’ll keep you safe.  I’ve got a state-of-the-art alarm system at my house, and if I call the company, they’ll send a guard at night.  It’s something I got set up right after I made partner, because sometimes clients blame us if their cases go south and I’ve had threats in the past.”  He reached over and clutched at Dean’s hand. “Don’t worry.  You’re safe with me!  I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you!”

            Dean blinked, not sure what to say.  “Thanks,” he said.  “Look, Sam, I won’t expose you to my troubles any longer than I have to.  I’ll get out as quick as I can, and...”

            “No, no!  Stay, Dean!” The hand tightened.  “You’ll be safe with me.”  He smiled.  “Meanwhile, we still didn’t get to talk.  You nodded off on the drive to the motel, and then you slept all night last night. This is the most alert and oriented you’ve been since I caught you at the portal, and I’d love to talk!

            Lawyer Sam was upset about something.  He was so much like Sammy that Dean could read him almost as easily as he could his brother.  They talked the entire ride, but Sam told Dean next to nothing about himself, far more interested in grilling Dean for details about his life.  That was a touchy subject, especially faced with this successful, normal version of Sammy.  But Dean found himself unable to look into the lawyer’s eyes and lie. Odd.  He’d lied right to Sammy’s face countless times.  But Lawyer Sam, smart, successful, celebrity lawyer, deserved to know the truth.  He needed to know what the man he’d rescued out of a misguided loyalty to his brother had done to him in that other world.  The way Dean had drawn Sammy off of the path that would have led him here, drawn him back into the life of a hunter and destroyed his chance to ever have the kind of life Lawyer Sam had now.  It didn’t matter that he was being manipulated by both Heaven and Hell at the time.  Of all Dean’s many sins, the ones he repented of the most all involved his brother. Now, Dean vowed, he’d do whatever it took to keep this version of his brother from being drawn into the life he led. But was it already too late?

            By the time they were pulling into the driveway of a nice middle-class suburban house, Dean wanted to curl up into a ball and hide.  Even Sam’s house was perfect!  He couldn’t imagine what the lawyer must think of him.  Why the hell would he even want anything at all to do with Dean was beyond Dean’s understanding.  Dean was sure now that his other self didn’t play any sort of significant role in his brother’s life.  And look at the result!  Look at how well Lawyer Sam did without Other Dean around to screw everything up!  And then there was the way Lawyer Sam had clammed up any time the subject of his brother came up.  He clearly didn’t want to talk about Other Dean.  Dean was definitely kicking the guy’s ass.  What was Other Dean’s problem?  Was he jealous of Lawyer Sam’s success?  What the hell did he expect?  If Lawyer Sam was anything like his Sammy, the guy was a genius. Dean felt his chest swell with pride. Lawyer Sam might not be his brother, but look at how well he’d done!  Without Dean holding him back, Sammy would have been successful in anything he’d done, too.  And if Dean hadn’t come back into his life, maybe Sammy could have been a lawyer to the stars, too?  The whole thing making Dean's ever-present headache even worse.  It didn’t help that he once again felt exhausted.  It was difficult to concentrate.  His eyes kept wanting to slip closed.

            “Dean, do you want to lie down and nap some more?” Lawyer Sam offered.  “You’re obviously exhausted, and you still look a bit pale.  I can give you my brother’s room.  I’m betting his clothes will fit you, and then you can get out of those!  By now, they must be almost able to walk by themselves!”

            Dean grimaced.  “Yeah, I’m definitely getting a bit stale over here.  But are you sure it’s alright?"

            “Of course it is!”  The lawyer smiled.  “You’re still healing, Dean, and it’s going to take some time.  I know you want to be with Castiel, but you can’t help your angel like this!”  He took Dean’s shoulder, nodding energetically.  “That’s why we’re here, so I can keep you safe for a few days while you take the time you need.  Besides, you have no idea how amazing this is, having you here, hearing about this whole other life you had!”

            “Yeah, amazing.  Awesome.” Dean rubbed at his eyes.  He didn’t want to sleep again, but his body might not give him much of a choice.  He nodded. “Alright, buddy.  If you’ve got a bed, I won’t say no.”

            “Great!  Come on in.” Sam’s smile grew soft.  “Get your strength back, Dean.  I have a feeling you’ll need it!”

            “Always do,” Dean grumbled.  He waited while Lawyer Sam parked, closed his eyes, and reached out for his angel.  _Cass?_ he called.  _Sam’s other self took me to his place in Kansas, and I guess he’s keeping me out here for a few days. I’m not happy about it, but he’s right.  I’m hurt, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine soon enough.  I just need some time to heal up.  Once I get it, I’ll give you the address.  Maybe you can come and see me, speed things up?  And get yourself a cell phone!  I’ll do the same.  I really need to hear your voice!_   Dean crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing a bit at his arms.  _I miss you, angel.  And I’m going back to sleep.  Not sure why you didn’t come to me in my dreams last night, but I know you’ve got your reasons.  Just… I’d really like to see you, Cass. It’s been too long since I saw those baby blues of yours!  So if you can come to me, even for a little bit?  I’d really like that.  If not, you know, I’ll understand._   Dean swallowed.  _I love you, Cass._

            It was the third time Dean had reached out to his angel.  Dean had sent Cass a quick call back at the diner, letting his angel know he was alright and where he was.  He’d called out to Cass again at the motel, before he’d gone to bed. Each time, he’d told his angel where he was.  And each time, he’d told Cass he loved him.  Could Cass hear him?  Maybe, in this weird-ass world, Cass’s angel radio was screwed up?  No, he couldn’t think about that now.  And it didn’t matter.  Even if Cass, for whatever reason, couldn’t hear him, Dean needed to tell Cass that he loved him every chance he got, simply because he’d gone far too long not facing the truth.  And when he finally saw Cass, finally held his angel in his arms?  Dean had every intention of showing him.  Thoughts of exactly how he’d do that brought a smile to his face as he followed Sam into the house.

            It was a nice place.  It had hardwood floors and a lot of open space with big windows, making it bright and airy.  He was a bit surprised when Lawyer Sam led him down to the basement, but hey, wherever the spare room was.  Besides, it’s not like he had any right to complain.

            Then Dean got a good look at the room and stopped, blinking in surprise as a delighted grin spread over his face.

            “This used to be my brother’s room,” the lawyer explained.  “I haven’t changed it much.  Everything of his is packed away in boxes in the closet, but he’s still got some clothes there that should fit you.  You’ve also got a private bathroom and shower.  I’ll bring you some towels.  I keep the bed made, use it for guests.”

            “Awesome!”  Dean looked around, nodding in approval.  For a basement, the room wasn’t damp at all.  It was dry, warm, and bright with paneled walls and shag carpeting.  Classic movie posters decorated the walls.  Dean noted with approval that it had a nice sound system and a big screen television.  A cabinet held a collection of music and videos.  Based on what little he saw, Other Dean had great taste. He turned to Lawyer Sam and smiled again.  “This really is awesome, Sam!  Thanks!”

            Lawyer Sam grinned.  Then he scurried off upstairs for towels, and Dean got into the closet.  Sure enough, the closet was filled with boxes.  A lot of boxes.  In fact, the entire closet was loaded with them, boxes stacked on top of each other from floor to ceiling in rows that filled up every inch of space. Apparently, Other Dean hadn’t taken much with him when he’d moved out.  Odd, but whatever.  Maybe his other self was a pack rat?  The clothes all appeared to be in Dean’s size.  Good, Lawyer Sam hadn’t been lying about Other Dean being fat.  Dean wasn’t sure if he could have handled that.  He found a pair of pajama bottoms and a clean t-shirt that was identical to one he owned, turned around, and swore.  Lawyer Sam had apparently returned.  Somehow, he’d come down the wooden staircase without making a sound.  Now the lawyer was standing at the doorway, holding a set of towels and watching him with an odd look on his face.  “Dude!” Dean protested.  “Never sneak up on a hunter, ok?  I just about took your head off!”  He paused. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing,” Lawyer Sam said quickly.  He seemed to realize that he was staring, looked away quickly and thrust the towels at Dean.  “I got you a razor and a toothbrush, too.  There should be soap, shampoo, and toothpaste in the bathroom.” 

            “Thanks.  Hey, where are we?  What’s the address?”

            Lawyer Sam rattled it off, and Dean nodded, quickly committing it to memory. Then he realized he was being stared at again.  He cocked an eyebrow.  “Should I dance or something?”

            The lawyer’s face flushed.  He cleared his throat and turned away.  “Sorry. I’m beat, so I’m going to catch a nap too, alright?  I’ll see you when you wake up.”

            He headed out, but paused in the door, seeming to lean on the frame.  The set of his shoulders, and the way he lowered his head and clung to the doorframe...?  “Sam?” Dean called.  “You ok?”

            Lawyer Sam didn’t answer at first.  Then he nodded.  “I’m fine,” he said.  His voice was oddly thick.  “I’m just really glad you’re here, Dean.  Get cleaned up and go to sleep.  If you need anything, just yell.”

            “Sure, buddy.”  Dean stared up after the lawyer, frowning in confusion as he heard footsteps climbing back up the stairs.  The way he’d stood in the door, it had almost seemed like Lawyer Sam was crying again! What the hell had that been about? Well, Lawyer Sam was certainly a weird guy!  Didn’t matter.

            Dean quickly showered and got ready for bed.  He dug into the pockets of his old clothes and found the necessary items that Lawyer Sam had been clever enough to save from the hospital staff. Angel blade under his pillow.  Pistol under the mattress.  Crucifix dipped into the cup from the sink filled with water to make holy water under the bed.  Devil’s trap drawn with chalk at the doorway.  Best he could do.

            Dean crawled into the bed, closed his eyes, and once again reached out for his angel, sending Cass the address.  _Come and see me, angel,_ he urged.  _I miss you, and I need you so much!  Please come and see me!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed about Dean thinking of Cass as a nerdy angel. Enjoyed him listening to the Zeppelin song. Felt bad for the sucker, because that’s exactly what that bounty hunter was. Loved Dean grinning at the guy as they left. Said Lawyer Sam was crying because he saw Dean in his brother’s old room and that was sad, but Lawyer Sam’s still being stupid.
> 
> No, I did not make the Starships thing up.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKbAOLhz4fE


	12. Gathering Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Ketch and his assistant go over Ketch's plans for how he intends to capture the monsters from another universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song I used for this, main theme for Mr. Ketch, is "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H5dt_8xXgqo

            Know your enemy as well as you know yourself.  That was the mantra Ketch operated on.  Most people who knew him believed that Ketch had risen as high as he had through a combination of skill, ruthlessness, and an extensive network of people who were as dedicated as himself, owed him, or he owned outright through blackmail or coercion.  But most people didn’t know the truth.

            “The real secret to being a hunter is information,” he explained to his assistant. “The reason I am the best hunter alive right now isn’t because I’m the toughest, the most well-connected, or even the smartest.  It’s because I always do my homework.”

            “Yes sir, Mr. Ketch,” Charles replied quickly.  “Sir, may I ask a question?”

            Ketch didn’t look up from his files to acknowledge his assistant.  “You may.”

            “Why did you ask for all this information on Blake Shelton and Adam Levine? I mean, I know Levine’s been in contact with that angel and Shelton’s just back from spending a month in another universe, so they’re both obviously persons of interest.  But I don’t understand why you’re spending so much time on them instead of that lawyer!  If you’re going to the ranch to figure out if the version there is the real thing or the monster version, shouldn’t you be studying him?”

            “I already know all I need to know about him,” Ketch replied, sounding bored.  “Sam Winchester may or may not have been a willing participant before, but since he’s come in contact with the monster version of Dean Winchester, I have no doubt whatsoever that he’s willing now.  Everything we know about Winchester the attorney tells us that losing his brother broke him.”  He indicated the neglected file on Winchester.  “He checked the monster into the hospital and listed himself, under his own name, as the contact person.  One of our hunters found that almost immediately after I’d announced the bounties and went to the hospital.  But by that time, Winchester had already checked the monster out against medical advice and was taking him away.  After that, it should have been a simple matter of following Winchester, waiting for a chance to get the monster away and out of sight, and making the kill or capture, especially since the monster’s medical records indicate he’d suffered a rather serious head injury.  But Davis always was an idiot.”

            “Davis?”  Charles winced in sympathy.  “I hadn’t realized it was Davis that went for that bounty.  But I guess I should have known he’d prefer one of the kills.”  He shivered.  “That guy always scared me, sir.  You know some of the guys say he’s related to some sadist who used to run a concentration camp?  And they wouldn’t let him join the special forces because he’s got a record for violent assault?”

            Ketch hummed.  “Doesn’t matter.  Davis couldn’t even take down a non-powered human monster with a head injury, which simply reaffirms my opinion of him.  He underestimated the monster and made a fool of himself, but he’ll get his chance.  The bounty is dead or alive.  So long as the monster is recognizable, I’ve no concern for the state it’s in.”  He waved a dismissive hand.  “Besides, we know where Winchester is likely taking him. Even a prat like Davis should be able to breach the security system in Winchester’s home, should the time come. But for now, his orders are to hold position and monitor.”

            Charles was a small man with curly brown hair and a beard.  Ketch knew that most people referred to his assistant behind Charles’s back as Smithers, saying he was the living embodiment of Mr. Burns’s assistant from “The Simpsons.”  Ketch could certainly see the resemblance.  Charles looked mousy on a good day, but when he squeaked like he did now, Ketch felt the urge to offer him cheese.  “Y-you ordered Davis to hold position?  You don’t want him to take that bounty?”

            “No. Right now, we know exactly where one monster and one version of Sam Winchester are located.  There’s a chance some of the other monsters may come out of hiding and join them.  And while I feel chances are very high that this version is the actual lawyer, there’s still a chance that he could be the monster Sam Winchester, masquerading as the lawyer.”  Ketch glanced at his assistant.  “You’ll recall that our interrogation of the two witches revealed that Levine and the angel had a spell designed to allow two matching souls to temporarily switch places across realities?  I’ve no doubt that is why the angel originally sought out Winchester.  Why they kept him instead of simply murdering him and replacing him outright with the monster still confuses me, but I digress. Just this morning, the version of Winchester with Shelton filed a motion to dismiss the charges against Levine and the angel.  That obviously went through Winchester’s law firm, and could have been sent to them to be filed from anywhere with internet access.  We’ve also confirmed that the firm called and spoke with Winchester at the ranch, most likely to let him know the document had been sent to the court. Again, that could have gone either way. But the Winchester with Shelton personally called the court to see it was filed.  The style, syntax and grammar of the motion all indicate it was Winchester who wrote it.  This would seem to indicate that Shelton’s version is the true lawyer.”

            “But for all we know, the monster could have been a lawyer as well!”

            Ketch actually smiled.  “Well done, Charles!  I’ll admit I had my reservations about you at first, but you listen and pay attention. Most importantly, you have absolutely no ambition whatsoever and present no threat to the natural order of things.”

            Charles beamed.  “Thank you, sir!  That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

            It hadn’t exactly been a compliment, but Ketch ignored this for now.  “The bottom line is that we know precisely where both versions of Winchester are, and we know the location of one monster. I’m confident that, with my knowledge of Winchester’s background and personality, I’ll have little difficulty distinguishing between the two.  Then I’ll instruct Davis on what to do about his version.  Meanwhile, if either of the two he’s monitoring should make any move to escape, his orders are to capture and detain them both.”

            Charles blinked.  “You want him to capture and detain the lawyer?!  But Mr. Ketch...!”

            “By now, our agents have replaced all of the law enforcement at the Shelton-Levine ranch with those under our control,” Ketch continued, ignoring Charles’s concern.  “If this is the monster, I should have little difficulty capturing him.”  He indicated the files on Shelton and Levine.  “These two will be the real challenge here.  How much do you know about these men?”

            “I like them,” Charles replied immediately.  “I listen to both of their music.  And I always watch ‘The Voice.’  They’re hilarious, and really cute together.  People made a big deal out of it when they started publically dating, but honestly that didn’t surprise me a bit.  Some people are just meant to be together, you know?  Love’s love, after all.”

            “Nowt so queer as folk.”

            Charles blinked.  “D-did you just make a joke, sir?”  He laughed. “That was good!”

            Ketch raised an eyebrow.  “What? You just said it didn’t surprise you a bit when they started dating, and yet there was quite the controversy! That speaks to a very fickle public, wouldn’t you say?”

            Charles immediately sobered.  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

            Ketch eyed him a moment longer before returning to his files.  “Here is the situation, Charles.  When the angel fled, he took both Shelton and Levine with him, along with the lawyer and both of the monster Winchester brothers.  That isn’t a coincidence.  We already know, and I have personally witnessed, that Levine has strong feelings towards this angel and will even put himself at risk to protect him.  The fact that Levine went to prison rather than turning evidence against the angel speaks to that!  Therefore, we know that Levine is firmly under the angel’s control.”  He shook Levine’s file towards his assistant. “However, Levine remains our best chance at learning the angel’s current location.  That means he needs to be found, or lured out.”

            “And you think you can lure him out with Shelton?”

            “Normally, I would say yes, but it’s been two days and there’s been no contact,” Ketch corrected.  “No, I suspect that Levine will remain in hiding even if Shelton seems to be at risk. And the reason why is in these files.” He tapped the file on Shelton. “By every indication, the relationship between these two men is unusually strong, even for a recently-married couple.  By all accounts, Levine originally initiated that relationship.  But once Shelton bought into it, he’s remained a steadfast source of support.”

            He opened Levine’s file and pointed to a picture of the singer.  “Levine is the loud one, the rash, impulsive activist. We’re speaking of someone who challenged a guard to the point he was attacked on his second day behind bars! Levine is a crusader and constantly drawing attention to himself.  And while he does have some social stabilization in the form of his band, it’s Shelton who generally curbs him.”

            Ketch held up Shelton’s file, displaying his picture.  “Shelton is the calmer of the two.  While he can be just as outspoken and brash as Levine, in this relationship, Shelton is clearly the stabilizing element.  If you’ll excuse the expression, Shelton wears the pants in their marriage.  If he, either through his association with the human monsters in the alternate reality or after his arrival, was convinced to help hide them and their angel, past history indicates he would pursue that path whole-heartedly.  The fact that Levine has not visited him at the ranch, knowing the close relationship they have, can indicate only one thing – Shelton instructed Levine to stay hidden.”

            “So, you think Levine’s staying undercover because Shelton ordered him to?”

            “Essentially, yes.”  Ketch indicated the files.  “Levine views Shelton as far more than a spouse or lover.  Shelton is his closest confidant, his anchor.  He is the one person who can really control Levine because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if Shelton asked it of him.  Levine is certainly a fighter, but at the same time he craves physical contact, touch.  In that way, he’s much like a child in need of a cuddle.  The prolonged separation he’s had from the one person most capable of providing that comfort would result in his being anxious and needy. That’s quite likely how the angel was able to gain such control over him.  All he would have had to do was provide a substitute, and Levine would have literally clung to him.  That much was clear to me when I met them.  Levine was actually sitting in the angel’s lap, imagine!”  He shook his head.  “But now that Shelton is back, Levine would be desperate to return to him. To that end, he’d do anything for a chance to get back to Shelton.  He’ll take unnecessary risks, put himself in harm’s way.  That’s why Shelton would have immediately taken control, given him instructions to stay hidden.  Shelton knows how impulsive Levine is, and that Levine would take drastic steps unless Shelton specifically ordered him not to.”

            “Meanwhile, Shelton is known to have a strong protective streak towards Levine,” he continued.  “He has become quite confrontational when he’s felt Levine was being attacked.  Physical violence is certainly a possibility, especially if he felt there was any direct threat to Levine.  Shelton treasures and cherishes his husband above all else, even alienating his family for a time when they did not initially accept his relationship.  The fact that Levine was actually arrested while Shelton was trapped in the other universe and is now currently wanted by law enforcement would have greatly reinforced that protective streak.  The result is that Shelton is currently feeling strong urges to take whatever steps may be necessary to try to protect Levine.  He’s on his guard, and will react poorly to any perceived threat.”

            “Then why wouldn’t Shelton stay with Levine?” Charles asked.  “If his instinct is to protect his husband, then why would he leave him alone?”

            “Two reasons.  One, Shelton needed to make a public statement to help the legal cases of Levine and the angel,” Ketch explained.  “Two, Shelton trusts this angel.  Either Levine, the human monsters, the angel himself, or some combination thereof succeeded in convincing Shelton that the angel will protect Levine...”

            “And he has!” Charles interrupted, forgetting himself for a moment.  “The angel slaughtered people in the prison to protect Levine, and we both know that the dozen at the safe house was probably the same type of situation!  Sir,” he added hastily, seeing the annoyed look he was getting.  “Sorry, sir.  I know you hate to be interrupted.”

            “Yes, Charles, I do, and you’d best bloody well not do it again!”

            The assistant cringed.  “Yes sir, Mr. Ketch.  Sorry, sir.”

            Ketch sniffed.  “Bottom line, Levine is likely still with the angel.  Therefore, the only thing we need to do to find the angel is to locate Levine. But even though it goes against his own instinct, Levine will remain in hiding as long as Shelton continues to instruct him to do so.”  He cocked an eyebrow at Charles.  “I presume you’re thinking that the path, then, is to convince Shelton to call out Levine, are you not?”

            “Y-yes, I was,” Charles agreed meekly.  “I just didn’t want to say anything, sir, because I assumed that’s what someone like Davis would do.  You’ve got a much better plan, don’t you, Mr. Ketch?”

            Every so often, Charles surprised him.  “You are correct!  Shelton is anything but stupid.  If I were to approach him and try to convince him that his husband was in danger and in need of protection, Shelton would see through it immediately.  No, I’m afraid that, while Shelton is the reason Levine remains hidden, he isn’t the key to drawing Levine out.  I’ve use for Shelton, but not for that.  The way to Levine actually lies here.”

            Charles looked at the picture Ketch pulled from Levine’s file.  “Maroon 5?”

            Ketch nodded.  “As I told the hunters, if any of our persons of interest were to make a mistake, these would be the ones.  The monster Singer likely knew of the band, and their connection to Levine, through Shelton.  We’re aware that the angel had the ability to communicate between realities via Winchester. And I, in my shock at seeing Singer, quite foolishly provided him with the final piece of information he needed – the identity of the band.  That’s why Singer abducted them.  They are likely being held somewhere remote, with Singer using threats against them and their families in order to control them.  We know that Levine’s assets were frozen by the FBI, and that he recently withdrew cash from Shelton’s personal account.  But according the tapes near that ATM, after collecting the cash Levine immediately vanished.  It’s clear the angel is being utilized as a source of transport.”

            “So the angel messed with the cameras there just like he did in the safe house?” Charles looked thoughtful.  “Sir, doesn’t that mean the angel could have delivered Levine to Shelton sometime during the night, and they did actually see each other?”

            Ketch rolled his eyes.  “I doubt even Levine would be crass enough to utilize the powers of an angel for a quick snog!  For now, we’ll continue on the assumption that they’re communicated, probably utilizing burner phones, and that unless and until Shelton tells him otherwise, Levine will remain in hiding.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Ketch’s attention returned to the picture of Maroon 5.  “Farrar and Morton are recent members, but Levine seems quite attached to them, at least enough to make them permanent members of his group. Valentine and Flynn have been with the group since it was re-formed.  But these two, Madden and Carmichael?”  He pointed out the two musicians.  “The two of them have been with Levine since he first started his original group.  Carmichael left for a short time, but returned, making Madden the longest lasting member of Levine’s band.  But Carmichael is the one I’m most interested in.  By all accounts, Carmichael is Levine’s closest friend.  They’ve been friends since childhood.  If there is one person in all of this that Levine would cooperate to protect besides his husband?  Carmichael is the one!  I suspect, though, that Levine might be willing to go to extraordinary lengths to protect any member of his group.  If he believed them to be in danger, it is my opinion that Levine would come out of hiding in order to help them.”  He waved the picture at Charles.  “These six men are the key to controlling Levine.  Find them, we find him, and find Levine, and we find the angel.”

            “And with six of them, none of whom have any known background that could help them stay undercover, they’re bound to make a mistake!” Charles realized.

            “Which is precisely why Singer took them.”  Ketch narrowed his eyes.  “These men are accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and have the means to be able to finance whatever plans Singer may have for this dimension.  I’ve already convinced our contacts at the FBI that it would not be in the band’s best interest to freeze their financial assets. Information on the locations of banks and ATMs frequently utilized by the band have been sent out.  We’ll have some of our assets monitor the most likely ones, all of which will be in or around Los Angeles.”

            “Why there?”

            Ketch ticked off points on his fingers.  “Because they’ll be using the angel for transport and will have to give a specific location for him to bring them.  Because they were abducted by Singer in Oklahoma, are likely being held somewhere within a day’s drive of the site of that abduction, and Singer would make certain they didn’t utilize banks or ATMs anywhere near where he’s keeping them. Because Singer won’t be involved himself, but will instead send out a few members of the band, holding the others hostage to keep them controlled.  Because the angel won’t use the same trick he used with Levine.  And because that means the band will be left, for a brief period of time, to their own devices.  They’ll be dropped off somewhere they know, near their target but primarily out of sight to avoid suspicion, and walk to their target. They’ll get the money and then walk back to meet up with the angel again.  That provides our operatives with a very brief window of time to reclaim them.”

            “Why wouldn’t the angel use the same trick he used with Levine?”

            “Because this is Bobby Singer!” Ketch snapped, irritated again.  “That bastard knew exactly who I was, meaning I apparently followed a similar path in his world.  You’re familiar, I’m quite sure, with the history he and I have in our own world, are you not?”

            “Y-yes, sir.  So you think he’ll have the angel drop them off to mock you?”

            “No, he’ll do it to keep me from getting my hands on the angel!”  Ketch was scowling now.  “He won’t risk the angel now, not while he knows I’m looking for him!  He’ll keep the angel hidden, utilize him as little as possible.  That is his only real play, and he’s perfectly aware of it! Therefore, Singer will be far more likely to utilize and risk members of the band in order to protect the angel.”

            Charles nodded, not daring to say anything.

            Ketch put the picture of the band back into Levine’s folder.  Then he again regarded Shelton’s.  “Shelton could be made into something of an asset,” he mused aloud.  “While I’ve no doubt I can determine if Winchester is the lawyer or the monster by virtue of a simple chat, Shelton presents an opportunity.  Because it has not escaped me that, trapped in this world with only Levine and those allies he could draw around them?  The angel would have been at a significant risk.  Even the hosts of Heaven could potentially turn against him!  He’d need an ally, one with the ability to help him.  And that missing time in the safe house, when the cameras and microphones picked up nothing for nearly an hour?  I cannot help but be concerned.  Something happened in that house, something the angel did not want us to know about.  And the warding of the house would have shielded Levine and the angel from the eyes of Heaven as well.”

            Charles frowned.  “You think the angel did something to Levine, altered him?”

            Ketch crooked his index finger and tapped it on his chin, frowning.  “Levine was twice attacked.  The incident in the jail likely proved Levine’s vulnerability. But I’ve been puzzling over what, exactly, happened outside the safe house when they were attacked again.”

            “The outside cameras were all burned out,” Charles agreed.  “And before that, they’d dragged the angel over with Levine and stood around them both, blocking the view.  I’ll admit, I’m stumped as to how Levine got that manacle off of the angel!”

            “He’s more resourceful than I thought.  Whatever he did, it must have convinced the angel that yes, Levine could, in fact, prove to be a valuable ally.  But a human only has so many resources.  What if the angel did something, altered Levine in some way when they were hidden in the safe house?”

            Charles blinked.  “Can an angel do that?”

            “Angelic powers aren’t very well known, and this is an angel from another reality.  I don’t know, Charles.  I’ve got no way to know!”  His eyes moved to Shelton’s file.  “But I do have one way to find out.”

            “Shelton?”  Confusion was evident in the assistant’s voice.  “Sir, with respect, if Shelton would never tell you where Levine is, what makes you think he’d tell you if Levine’s been altered?”

            “Because he loves his husband more than his own life,” Ketch declared with a smile.  “And with the right motivation?  That kind of love can blind anyone!”

            Charles nodded, acknowledging this.  Then he seemed to brace.  “Sir, about the motherhouse in London?”

            Ketch’s smile instantly vanished.  “What of them?”

            “They’re requesting that you call them immediately.  They’re...”

            Ketch got up, gathering his files.  “I’m not available.  Tell them I’m heading into the field, going to the Shelton-Levine ranch.”

            “Of course, sir, but Mr. Ketch, they’re going to keep calling!  They already want to know about those bounties, especially the one on the angel.  And they’re concerned that you’ve involved Shelton and Levine and Maroon 5 when none of them has any real supernatural affiliation!  Eventually you’ll...”

            “Not now!” Ketch snapped.  “You’re certain everyone at the ranch outside of Shelton and Winchester is under our control?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Good.  Then I’m going in.  I’ll determine if Winchester is the monster, and if he is, I’ll be returning with him. Meanwhile, I’ll work on Shelton. Inform the motherhouse that I will contact them at my earliest convenience.”

            “And then don’t contact them?”

            “Not until I’ve something to report!  I do so detest being micromanaged!  When I return, I should have a great deal of useful information to pass on, and perhaps even one monster in custody.  Until then, they can be content to simply wait!”  Ketch strapped on his weapon.  Then he headed out the door without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun mentioned multiple times how much he hates Ketch. Laughed about Ketch thinking Adam wouldn’t be “crass” enough to use angel powers to get with Blake. Thinks the author should kill that son of a bitch at the end because he deserves it. Has declared that he’s writing a story in three sentences where Ketch pisses off Dean, Dean grabs a gun and kills Ketch, game over. Goodbye you douche!


	13. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally feeling back to normal, Dean's clear head results in some troubling thoughts. Lawyer Sam reminisces.

            Dean had long ago learned to handle disappointment.  He’d had plenty of experience from his father, who had time and time again missed important events like Christmas or Sam’s birthday despite earlier promises to be there.  But it still hurt when he opened his eyes, glanced at the clock, realized it was morning, and there had still been nothing from his angel.  Three days, and no contact.  This would not stand.  Dean was going to have to borrow Lawyer Sam’s phone, talk to Adam, and find out what was going on with his angel.  Cass had ignored him long enough.

            Besides, he couldn’t shake this feeling that something was somehow off, different about Castiel.  He didn’t know what it was, but he was positive he didn’t like it.

            Dean rubbed at his eyes and looked around.  At some point, apparently Lawyer Sam had been down to check on him.  There was a warm quilt spread over him, and a glass of water on the night stand that did wonders for Dean’s morning mouth. Now that he thought about it, he could vaguely remember Sam being there, speaking softly to him, gently spreading the quilt over him and...  Had Sam actually stroked his hair?  That was a bit creepy.  But Dean hadn’t really been awake, so maybe he’d dreamed it?  He certainly couldn’t remember what Sam had said to him.  If the lawyer had been telling him anything important, he’d have to repeat it today.

            Between being unconscious, their stop in the motel, the naps he’d taken in the Impala, and the fact that now he’d apparently slept from the late afternoon clear until the early morning, he’d spent more time asleep in the past few days than he’d had in a month.  His body wasn’t sure how to deal with it.  Like most hunters, Dean was used to functioning on about four hours a night.  If this kept up, Dean thought, he’d be ruined as a hunter.  But the nagging headache that had refused to go away was finally gone. For the first time, Dean’s mind was completely clear.  And with that clarity came those nagging thoughts that had been in the back of Dean’s mind for some time now.  He looked again at the quilt, the water glass, and the closet, thought about the stack of boxes, and finally came up with a few questions that he should have asked days ago.

            Sam lived in this house, and, until recently, so had his wife and kids.  But this room was 100% Other Dean’s.  The room was neat and well dusted, but the decor echoed loudly with the personality of his other self.  It didn’t match the rest of the house, or anything Dean knew about Lawyer Sam.  Then there were the boxes.  Dean had noticed the dust on them, indicating they’d been in their place in the closet for some time.  Then there was the sheer volume, filling up an entire closet.  It was as if Other Dean had left in a hurry one day, taken almost nothing with him, and hadn’t been back for a long time, maybe even years. Yet this room almost seemed expectant. It was as though Sam believed his brother would return at any time.  The state of the room seemed to indicate that Sam would welcome his return.  But any time he’d tried to talk to Sam about his brother, Sam got uncomfortable and changed the subject.  The way Sam talked, his brother was somewhere far away, and Sam didn’t expect him back any time soon.  So why keep up this room, just as Other Dean had left it?  Sam was clearly very attached to his brother, even naming his children after Other Dean.  It was clear that the lawyer missed his brother badly.  He was nearly as bad as Blake, with the way he kept speaking to Dean as if Dean was actually Other Dean.  But if the two were so close, why did Other Dean stay away?  Everything was completely contradictory.  It didn’t make any sense, and now he, Dean, was caught in the middle of it!

            Alright.  Enough. It was time to have a chat with Lawyer Sam.  But there was no way Dean was doing that on an empty stomach.  He’d missed supper, so it was time to make some breakfast.

            Dean dressed for the day in a comfortable clothes he’d found in Other Dean’s closet.  Then he headed upstairs and started rooting around in the kitchen.  Lawyer Sam, Dean quickly realized, needed to get better acquainted with the local grocery store.  He had next to nothing in his kitchen, and most of what he did have was rabbit food.  No, that would not do.  Dean rummaged a bit more, found a box of pancake mix and set about making them, expertly flipping them into the air.

            “You were always so good at that!”

            Dean glanced back and saw Lawyer Sam watching him from the doorway of the kitchen. Dean shot him a smile.  “Your brother could flip a flapjack, too?”

            “Like a juggler at a circus!  I just hope yours taste as good as his did.”

            “Guess we’ll find out.”  Dean jerked his head towards the fridge.  “If we’re going to stay here long, I’m making a shopping list,” he declared.  “You’ve barely got anything here, dude!  Don’t you ever eat anything besides salads?”

            “Well, I am fond of salads, but it’s primarily just me here now,” Sam confessed coming into the room to hover over the pancakes.  “Not much point in going grocery shopping for just one person.”

            Dean slapped his hand as the long fingers inched towards a pancake.  Then he shook a spatula in the lawyer’s face. “Hands off until they’re done! Seriously, dude, it’s no wonder you’re trying to snag a flapjack.  You must be starving!  I’m going to teach you how to eat proper food or die trying!  Brings up a point, though,” he said casually.  “Exactly how long are we staying here?”

            “Not long,” Sam said quickly.  “A day, maybe two?”

            “Why?”

            “W-well, Dean, you slept half the day yesterday!” Sam pointed out.  “You look really good today, but you’re still just recovering.  Don’t you think you should give yourself more time?  Besides, what’s the rush?”

            Dean frowned.  “Dude, don’t you have to get back to your clients?  Adam and Blake might need your help, and I’d really like to get back with my angel!”

            The light seemed to go out of Sam’s eyes, and Dean watched as his face went blank, going straight into lawyer mode.  “Yes, of course you would,” Sam agreed, crossing his arms defensively.  “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

            Dean’s frown deepened.  He carefully transferred the pancakes, perfect as usual, to a plate and poured more batter for the next batch.  “I’m starting to worry about Cass,” he confessed.  “I’ve been calling him, and I really thought he’d show up in my dreams last night.  But he didn’t!  Three days I’ve been trying to get to him, and nothing.  Seeing as how, you know, we just figured out our real feelings for each other?  I don’t understand why he’s holding back.  I thought maybe he thinks I’m the one who banished him or something, but that’s stupid!  Cass would know better.”  Dean frowned, shaking his head.  “I just can’t help but think something’s gotta be wrong.  Has he even tried calling you?”

            “I tried to call him last night.  I’ll try again.”  Sam pulled out his phone.  He put it on the counter next to the pancakes and hit Castiel’s number, leaving the phone on speaker.  But almost immediately, the angel’s gravely voice announced, “This is my voice mail. Make your voice a mail.”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  Cass never changed, no matter what universe he was in.  But even though it was only voice mail, hearing his angel’s voice felt unbelievably good.  “Cass, it’s me,” Dean called, leaning towards the phone while he kept a watchful eye on his pancakes.  “I’m still with Lawyer Sam, and he took me back to his house.”  He repeated the address.  “Not sure how long we’ll be here.  Soon as I get a phone, I’ll call you.  Call me back, ok?  I love you, angel.”  Saying the words out loud was strange.  Dean found himself tingling pleasantly as he nodded to Sam, who ended the call.  “Any chance I can get a phone soon?  Don’t need any of that fancy shit, just something to talk on.”

            “No problem, I can pick you up one today,” Lawyer Sam announced.  He seemed to be relaxing again.  He slipped the phone into his pocket, watching as Dean flipped the pancakes into the air, expertly catching them in the pan, and chuckled. “Show-off!”

            Dean smirked at him.  Then he tossed the pancake again, spinning around to catch it behind his back.  But the bottom of the pan got caught up on the edge of the stove and the pancake landed with a splat on the heating element. Dean swore, shut off the heat, and quickly cleaned off the mess.  “Sorry,” he called.  “Just a random offering to the gods of fire, no need for alarm!”

            Lawyer Sam laughed.  Then he darted forward and grabbed Dean from behind, wrapping his arms around Dean in a tight hug with his face pressed against the back of Dean’s neck.  “I missed you, Dean,” he said with a catch in his voice.  “I missed you so much!”

            Dean froze.  He tolerated the tight embrace, but his heart was pounding.  His eyes darted around, unsure of what to do.  Why would Lawyer Sam do this?  Once again, the lawyer was acting as if Dean was his brother, rather than who he actually was.  It made Dean acutely uncomfortable.  He shifted, hoping the lawyer would quickly realize his mistake and let him go.

            But Lawyer Sam didn’t seem to notice.  In fact, his arms actually tightened a little.  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he was saying.  “And I know how much you hate chick flick moments, Dean, but you can’t even imagine how much I missed this!  Mornings alone, just you and me.  Pancakes for two, you flipping them in the air while you run around the kitchen in your bare feet!  It’s like you never…”

            He abruptly went quiet, and the arms around Dean tightened even more.  Now his grip was becoming uncomfortable.  The taller man’s body trembled.

            Dean’s breath caught.  He could think of only one reason for this reaction.  Whatever had happened between Lawyer Sam and Other Dean, it had resulted in a serious, lasting separation, one that Lawyer Sam was still suffering from. Other Dean was absolutely getting his ass kicked.  But meanwhile, Lawyer Sam was back to acting like Blake had, when he’d gotten confused about his husband.  Now here he was, clinging to a barefoot stranger he’d only met a few days ago in his kitchen?  This needed corrected before it got any worse.  Fine.  Dean gently tapped the lawyer’s arm.  “Sam?” he called quietly.  “Let go of me, alright?  I think we better talk.”

            Behind him, the lawyer grew stiff.  He quickly let Dean go and went to the table, falling more than sitting into one of the chairs.  His face looked pale and drawn.

            Dean finished the pancakes without comment or further incident and brought over two stacks to the table, placing one in front of Sam and the other across the table for himself.  He bustled around the kitchen a bit more, bringing out butter and syrup and pouring two glasses of milk.  Then he sat down across from the lawyer, quietly prepared his pancakes, and began to eat.

            Lawyer Sam simply sat as he was.  His green eyes were fixed on the table.  He stirred enough to go to work on preparing his own pancakes.  But his eyes looked hollow, almost haunted, and after a moment, he simply froze.

            “You wanted those pancakes badly enough you were trying to snag one before it was even done,” Dean reminded.  “So how about you eat them while they’re hot?”

            The lawyer seemed to flinch.  Then he quickly buttered his stack and poured on syrup.  He took a bite and gave a small smile.  “Delicious,” he announced.  “You’re a great cook, Dean!”

            Dean shrugged.  “I’ve had plenty of practice.  I cooked for my brother all of our lives while we were growing up.”

            The green eyes grew frosty.  “He was lucky to have you.”

            Dean chewed, eying the lawyer.  “Depends on your definition, I suppose.”

            “No, it doesn’t!”  The lawyer suddenly looked cross.  “Your brother had you to look after him, and he still does!  He has no idea how good he’s got it!”

            Dean calmly washed down his pancakes with a drink of milk.  “Is that really what this is about?”

            And now came the lawyer face.  “If you have a specific question, then ask it!  Otherwise, I’m not sure what, exactly, it is that you want to talk about.” He sighed.  “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that.  I was way out of line, and I’m really embarrassed about it right now.”

            “It was a bit awkward,” Dean confessed.  “But we’ll get to that.”

            “Fine.”  Lawyer Sam sat up straight and took another bite of pancakes.  He washed them down with milk and leveled a cool gaze across the table.  “What do you want to know?”

            “Why am I here, Sam?” Dean asked quietly.  “See, I’ve had time to sleep on it, and there’s some things that don’t make sense to me.  For example, I know that park I got shoved through to?  It was in Oklahoma.  And the hospital I ended up in?  I couldn’t tell you exactly where that was, but you said it was half an hour from that park, which means it was probably in Oklahoma, too.  Blake told me about his ranch, which was also in Oklahoma.  And I’m fairly certain that Blake’s ranch is the most logical place for where everyone’s meeting up.  Blake’s a country star married to a rock star.  If I needed a place to rest and recover, nothing against your place, but I imagine Blake’s ranch would have every comfort, not to mention being a lot closer to the hospital!  So I can’t figure it out, Sam.  If everyone’s in Oklahoma, then why am I here?  Why did you take me out to Kansas?”

            Lawyer Sam froze with a bite of food halfway to his mouth.  He let the food drop back down to his plate.  Then he put his elbows on the table, lowered his face to his hands, and let out a low moan.  “Dean?” he managed.  “I… You…”

            The sound of a car pulling up outside seemed to silence him.  He stayed as he was, with his face buried in his hands. Dean sighed and got up.  “I’ll see who it is, and get rid of them,” he declared. “Because you and I very obviously need to talk.  Alright?”

            Lawyer Sam didn’t respond.  Dean irritably made his way through the living and entry rooms to the door in time to see it fly open.  Three young children raced inside.  They skidded to a stop, staring at Dean.  Dean smiled, recognizing Lawyer Sam’s children from the pictures he’d been shown. “Hey there!” he called cheerfully.

            His answer was a set of screams.  As he blinked in surprise, all three turned and raced back outside, slamming the door behind them.  Dean stared after them.  He gave himself a quick once-over, and then checked rapidly behind him.  Nothing seemed amiss, although he could hear Lawyer Sam’s chair sliding out from the kitchen.  “What the hell?” Dean wondered.

            Then the door opened once more, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

            A beautiful blonde-haired woman had just come through the door.  She looked irritated.  But when her eyes fell on Dean, they went wide and she froze in place. All the color fled her face.

            Dean imagined he looked much the same.  He could feel the blood draining from his cheeks, feel himself growing suddenly lightheaded.  He _knew_ this woman, and the idea that she was here, that she was _alive?_   He shook his head, drawing himself out of his stupor, but couldn’t tear his eyes away.  “Jess!” he gasped.

            “D-Dean?” she squeaked.

            They both stared at each other.  Then Dean turned towards the pale-faced figure who had just come in from the kitchen.

            Lawyer Sam swallowed hard, his green eyes moving between Jess and Dean.  “Um, well, I-I guess you two know each other, sort of?” he managed.  “Jess, this is, well, he’s my brother.  I mean he’s obviously not my brother, but he _is_ my brother, just…”  He swallowed. “Jess, this is Dean Winchester. And Dean, this is Jess Winchester. My wife.”

            “Wife?!”  Dean’s head was spinning.  Jess, the woman his brother probably would have married someday, the woman who had died at the hands of the demon who had killed their mother and changed Sammy forever, was here?  She was alive, married to this alternate universe version of his brother?

            “Daddy!”

            The three children went racing past Jess and Dean to pounce on their father. All three were tearful and upset. Lawyer Sam looked chagrined.  He narrowed his eyes at Jess.  “This is not a good time!” he informed her.  “You know I’m always glad to see them, but Jess, you should have at least called and told me you were coming!  Why are you all here?”

            “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Sam!” Jess exclaimed.  “You know I’ve had bad feelings for a while now, but the last couple of days, I thought I was going out of my mind!”

            “I told you I’m fine!” Sam snapped, looking flustered.  “I just told you that last night, all three times you called me! Three times, Jess!  Three times you talked to me, and you never mentioned coming here!”

            She straightened, her eyes narrowing in anger.  “You’re fine?!  Bullshit! You’ve been anything but fine for way too long!  Now I come in, and I find...?”  She shook her head.  “If it was another woman, I could have understood that, accepted it.  God knows you haven’t touched me in months!  But this?!  Sam, you’re here with your _brother_ for God’s sake!”

            “Um, hi, nice to meet you?” Dean called.  “I have no idea what is going on here.”

            Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean before returning to his wife.  “Jess, please, I swear there’s an explanation, but this is so not a good time for...”

            “Samuel William Winchester, what is going on here?!” Jess demanded.  “The kids thought they’d seen a ghost!  I’m not sure they’re wrong!  How can Dean be here, in our living room, when the kids and I just came from visiting their uncle’s ashes?!”

            Dean sputtered.  “Ashes?!”

            Then he caught sight of Lawyer Sam’s face.  And suddenly, a number of things fell into place for Dean.  He thought back through all the things Lawyer Sam had said and done, going back to that first meeting at the bunker when this Sam, in Dean’s brother’s body, had touched Dean’s face.  He thought about the room in the basement.  Then he replayed all of their interactions, up through the weird hug the lawyer had given him this morning and what he’d said.  Now it all made sense.  And Dean had no idea what to think about any of it.  His shoulders hunched up.  He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes flickering around, looking everywhere but at Lawyer Sam as the lawyer calmed his children and spoke quickly with his wife, asking Jess if she could please just take the kids into the solarium and give him a moment?  He was assuring them again that he could explain everything.  Dean wasn’t so sure about that.

            And then it was just him and Lawyer Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun sang some dramatic music. Says he’s now hungry for pancakes.
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> In the pilot episode for the show, after going with his brother to help look for their father, Sam insisted on returning to college and a waiting job interview. But when he arrived, he found his girlfriend, Jess, bloody and pinned to the ceiling. Her body then caught fire. It was identical to the death of their mother when Sam was a baby, and was the event that pushed Sam to leave his dream of college and a legal career behind and join Dean as a hunter.
> 
> The video is here. WARNING - the violence I have described here in this series is very much canon-typical. "Supernatural" is a horror show, and this scene is quite graphic!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ay5pXNTBFtU


	14. Of Rockstars and Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby has a chat with Adam about what having the power of an angel inside of him means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Adam is singing here is "Secret" by Maroon 5

            Bobby, up long before anyone else, thought at first that Adam hadn’t returned.  He’d been just about to panic when he heard a sound and realized that Adam was outside. Bobby frowned, looking around. Maroon 5 was spread out all over the trailer, sleeping on whatever surface happened to be available.  Soft snores echoed all around him as he pulled on his clothes, new acquisitions he’d gotten from a nearby thrift shop, and quietly went outside.

            Adam was pacing around outside, largely oblivious to anything around him. His attention seemed largely fixed on Cass’s trench coat, which he’d draped over the hood of one of the cars. He had a black leather jacket draped over his shoulder, and a cigarette in his mouth.  He was singing softly to himself.  _“I know I don't know you, but I want you so bad!  Everyone has a secret, but can they keep it?  Oh no they can't.”_

            Bobby shook his head.  Adam was upset.  Alright, then.  “You know,” he called quietly as he came closer, “the band told me you’re all about health food and yoga and all that healthy shit.  So what the hell are you doing smoking?”

            Adam looked startled.  He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, looked at it guiltily, and then threw it down and snubbed it out with a booted heel.  “I don’t smoke much, but I never quite kicked the habit,” he confessed. 

            Bobby glanced at the trench coat, and then back at Adam.  The singer was shrugging his arms into the leather jacket.  “Wanted a wardrobe change?”

            “I just wanted to feel more like me again,” Adam explained.  “That’s where the cigarettes came from.  I wasn’t even craving them.  I just had half a pack in the pocket of this coat.  Problem is, I smoked the whole half a pack and I wasn’t feeling a thing!  So I went down to the gas station and brought a new carton.  Don’t worry, the clerk barely looked up the whole time from his texting, so I doubt he recognized me.”  He jerked a thumb towards the fragrant dumpster across the dirt road.  “The empty packs are all in there, except for that one I just smoked.  I just chain smoked the entire carton in one setting, lighting one off of the other, and nothing!  Nothing at all!”

            “You’re an angel now, Adam,” Bobby reminded gently. “Cass always did have one hell of a tolerance.”

            Adam began to pace again.  “That’s just it!  I don’t want to be an angel, Bobby, ok?  I don’t want this!  I can kind of understand why Jimmy Novak tried to resist Castiel.  This thing, the Grace?  I just want it out of me!  I couldn’t imagine how it must have been for Novak, having a full angel inside of him!”

            “Actually?  You might be a bit worse off, Adam.”  Bobby came closer, standing very near the upset singer as Adam continued to pace. “For a vessel, the angel has complete control.  If Cass had taken you the way I initially thought he’d done, your body would be a puppet with only as much control as Cass let you have.  Most angels shut the humans completely away, so they don’t even really know what’s happening to them.”

            “Yeah, ok, that would suck.”  Adam shivered.  “Castiel didn’t tell me he could have taken me over completely if he wanted to!  This is bad enough!”

            “Yes, it is, and it’s because you don’t have the angel along with the Grace,” Bobby explained.  “To do what he did, Cass must have bonded his Grace to your soul, Adam, just like he would have done to take you as a vessel.  But it’s only a human soul!  Without an angel to contain it, what’s inside you is like a cancer.  You can’t control it, and it’s going to just keep growing until you let it out.”

            “And every time I let it out, I risk being found by the hosts of Heaven,” Adam sighed.  “And even when I do use it, you’re right, it’s a lot like a cancer. It just grows and grows until I can’t take it anymore and I have to let it out again!”  He turned to Bobby.  “Last night after I left Blake, I went flying all over, having adventures.  I visited Mount Rushmore and stood on Lincoln’s head, walked on the roof of the Kremlin, poked around inside of Big Ben in London, visited the Sphynx, hiked the Great Wall of China...  It all should have been incredible, Bobby.  And it was!  But at the same time, I couldn’t enjoy any of it.  I felt like it wasn’t real, you know?  Because I couldn’t interact with anyone!  Everywhere I went, I had to stay out of range of human perception.  So it was all, you know, not real.  It was like I went on a virtual reality tour!”

            Bobby nodded.  “So you’re not finding any good in this, and it’s getting to you?”

            “Bobby, I’m trying to see the good in all of this!” Adam exclaimed.  “I can do so much with what Castiel gave me!  I healed and resurrected a dog I found that had been hit by a car, and I gotta tell you, that felt great!  So I snuck into a children’s hospital.  I thought I could heal some kids, you know?  Do some good!  But to heal, I had to go into the range of human perception again.  And the kid I healed, she opened her eyes, saw me standing over her and just absolutely freaked out, screaming and crying, and I couldn’t calm her down, and then the nurses came and saw me and I had to run...”

            “You healed a kid, and you were seen?!”  Bobby groaned.  “Balls, Adam, where are your brains?  What the hell do you think that kid and the nurses are going to tell people when they realize that she’s healed?  And from what Blake told me and the band confirmed, you and he are household names!  What if they figure out it’s you?  Did they see you well enough to recognize you?”

            “I don’t know!”  Adam clutched at his own hair, pacing rapidly in a small circle. “I have no idea what I’m doing, ok?! I’m lost and I’m scared and everyone’s after me, and I have all of this power that keeps building up inside of me and I don’t know what to do!  Last night, I burned a bunch of it off and this morning I almost felt normal again. But I can feel it, growing and growing and I know, I fucking _know_ that tonight it’s going to be the same damned thing again, me trying to find some way to burn enough of it off that I can take it!”

            Bobby didn’t say anything.  He watched as the singer stopped, and then abruptly dropped down. That alarmed Bobby for a moment until he realized that Adam hadn’t fallen.  He’d simply crossed one foot over the other and dropped into a cross-legged position.  Now he was sitting there on the ground with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths, obviously trying to get a hold of himself.

            Bobby watched him for a moment more.  Then he moved over to lean against the car.  He took Cass’s trench coat and carefully folded it.  “You’re not Castiel,” he offered.  “I know the band kind of expects you to be, and it feels like you do, too.  But angel or not, you can’t be someone you aren’t, Adam. Makes no sense to try.”

            Adam’s head shot up, looking up at Bobby.  “I kind of have to!” Adam insisted. “Castiel gave me his Grace so I can find Dean and keep him safe until we could figure out a way to get them both back to where they belong.  He didn’t know about you and Hunter Sam, but that makes it even worse!  It’s just more people I have to try to protect.  And meanwhile, Castiel’s out there trying to hide, just trying to stay alive long enough to get to the next full moon and hopefully go home!”  He shook his head, looking disgusted.  “I’m fucking pathetic.  Here I am, whining because I’ve got his Grace inside of me, and meanwhile, he’s alone and helpless and doing the only thing he can to try to stay hidden and keep from drawing everyone after us!”

            Hearing his own fears for his boy spoken aloud made Bobby grow still.  “Is my boy safe, Adam?”

            “As safe as he can be, considering he’s the most magical sparkly rainbow unicorn in all the land.”  Adam shook his head.  “Blake’s such an idiot.”

            Bobby cleared his throat.  “I didn’t want to, you know, pry or anything, Adam.  But my boys, Blake and Sammy?  They’re doing alright?”

            “I didn’t see Hunter Sam, but Blake?”  A smile spread across Adam’s lips. “Blake’s great!”

            “So you told him?  About you?”

            “Actually, I didn’t have to,” Adam confessed.  “Like I said, I can’t control my powers, and during, um, well, let’s just say Blake unexpectedly got a very clear picture of exactly what I am now and leave it at that.  But you know what that big stupid country hick did, Bobby?  Do you know what Blake did when he found himself pinned down by a monster?  He told me he loved me!”  Adam gave a happy little laugh.  “I can’t imagine in a million years that I’d have reacted like that if our positions were reversed.  I mean there I was, still on top of him...”

            “Details aren’t necessary!”

            Adam smiled again.  “Bottom line is, it was the worst possible place for me to angel out. And I did, and Blake just told me he loved me and that was that.”  He flopped backwards onto the ground, looking up at Bobby, suddenly serious.  “No one else is ever going to react that well to what I am now.  The band really surprised me, honestly, but I think they’re kind of shellshocked.  In the past few weeks, they’ve learned and seen so much!  Me as an angel?  Just one more thing to add to the heap of shit I’ve piled onto their heads lately.”

            “You’re right about that,” Bobby agreed.  “The band’s pretty much numb right now.  But sooner or later, it’s all going to sink in.” He glanced towards the trailer. “Matt, I think he’ll be alright. He’s holding on to his family, telling himself that he’s got to do what he needs to do to protect them.  Same with James and PJ, because they’re both holding pretty strong to their faiths.  Mickey, though?  I think Mickey’s going to fall apart before too long.  Sam I can’t really judge.  He’s got a family too, doesn’t he?”

            Adam nodded.  “Two kids.  I worried about Sam, too.  Sam and PJ both have kids same as Matt, and I’m sure that helps.  But Sam, he doesn’t believe in anything, not really.  He didn’t believe in Castiel until he saw proof for himself.  So I don’t know what he’s clinging to now.  And Jesse?  Jesse could go either way!”  The hazel eyes were solemn as Adam looked up at Bobby.  “What do I do about my band, Bobby?”

            “For starters, you get your head out of your ass,” Bobby growled.  “Adam, you cannot take all of this onto yourself!  Grace or not, you’re only human!  You think Castiel could have helped the band any more than you could?”

            “Yes!” Adam exclaimed, sitting up.  “Because he had the angel valium, Bobby!  He could calm them all down, get them thinking straight again.  But I can’t do that!”

            “Bullshit.  Adam, there’s a group of men inside there that are looking for you to lead them. They don’t need angel valium, they need you!  And it’s up to you to show them that you’re not Castiel, that you’re still Adam Levine! That what’s inside of you hasn’t changed you that much yet!”

            “Yet?”  Adam stilled.

            Bobby grimaced.  He leaned heavily against the car, suddenly feeling the weight of every one of his years.  “Adam,” he began, “when Castiel first really started being a part of our lives, I picked up pretty fast on what was going on between him and Dean.  So you better believe I studied everything I could possibly find about angels, especially their interactions with humans!  What’s happening to you, what he’s done?  In all my research, I’ve never heard of anything like it.  Of course, we never dealt with the same angel in two different universes before, so of course my boy had to think way outside the box.  But that idjit thought a little too far!”

            Adam got to his feet.  “What’s going to happen to me, Bobby?  What am I?”

            “Near as I can tell?  You’re an incomplete vessel.  It seems to me like Castiel went through all the steps towards possessing you, and then stopped just before the last one.  He tore himself apart midway to occupying your body, Adam, and left a good part of himself inside of you!  He’s lucky he didn’t kill his fool self!”

            “He nearly did,” Adam admitted.

            “I believe it.  But here’s the thing.  Without an angel inside of you to anchor that Grace, there’s only one other option. It’s hooked right onto your soul. And Adam?  That means your soul is being corrupted.  Now, I don’t like to think of angel Grace as a corrupting influence any more than you do, but the fact is, it’s a foreign energy that’s latched onto your soul, using your soul to anchor itself inside of you.”  He gestured towards Adam.  “Did this, the way it was draining Cassiel?  Has it stopped?”

            Adam shook his head.  “No.  It slowed down, but it hasn’t stopped.”

            “Then it’s even worse.  The more power you gain, Adam?  The more it’s going to latch onto your soul.  You’re a vessel, but chances are, you’re not strong enough to contain the power of an archangel.  As powerful as Cass seems to be now, I’m betting the fact that he’s not inside of you as well is the only thing that’s keeping your body from being overly strained and starting to come apart.”

            “Come apart?!”

            “Calm down,” Bobby called, raising his hands. “You’re fine, and chances are, before it gets too much for you, you can dump it all right back into my boy and we’ll be on our way.  But there is one thing you need to think about.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Blake.”  Bobby nodded, seeing Adam still once more.  “Adam, you and Blake are soulmates.  You’re linked together with a bond so strong that you could use it to bridge two different universes!  Even when Blake’s soul was being drained, you felt it, didn’t you?  Yeah, it was the same for him,” he continued when Adam nodded. “But this?  This is something different.  Blake’s soul was being drained, but it was still his.  Your soul is being corrupted.  If this keeps up, if the corruption gets to the point where you lose your humanity?  Then it’s possible you lose that link with Blake.”

            “No fucking way!” Adam exclaimed.  “Bobby, I refuse to allow that to happen!”

            “Then you hold onto that,” Bobby advised.  “You hold strong to Blake.  My boy is strong enough to get you through this, if you let him!”

            “Then I’ll let him!”  Adam’s fists were clenched.  “Seeing him last night, being with him?  I needed that for so long!  But we still can’t be together, and it’s driving me insane!  I need Blake, Bobby!”

            “Good.”  The old veteran smiled, reached out, and clasped the younger man’s shoulder.  “You keep right on needing Blake, Adam. Because that, more than anything else, is what’s going to save you.”

            Adam smiled in return.  Then his hazel eyes moved, going past Bobby to the house. “What about my band?  I don’t know what to do for them.”

            Bobby considered the question, stroking his beard. “Well, what did you do before?  Surely you’ve been through some tough times in the past, right?  Just because you’re rock stars doesn’t mean you’ve never had to deal with shit!”

            “No, we’ve dealt with plenty,” Adam sighed. “I didn’t even think we’d make it as rock stars at first.  Then we had our first hit, and things just kind of took off.  But even today, there’s no guarantee.  Right now, we’re popular, and our album’s selling well and playing well.  But the next album we put out could completely flop, and eventually, people will lose interest in us and stop coming to our shows.  There’s always another band, another group, waiting in line just behind us, ready and willing to take our place.  That’s why we all do our own things, our side businesses and endorsement deals and such.  Strike while the iron is hot, you know?”

            “Ok, that sounds like a lot of pressure.  What do you do when it gets to you?”

            “Well, usually we just work through it,” Adam admitted.  “We practice, or we write new material.  Some of our best hits came out of some serious angst.  Hell, our first album was all about bullshit we’d been through with our girlfriends!”

            Bobby shrugged.  “Then work through it.  I’ve been assigning them chores to do to keep them busy, and it’s kept them going so far. Now you’re here, so do the same. You know them better than I do anyway.”

            Adam stared at him.  “Seriously?”

            “Sure, why not?  If you want to keep your band from falling apart, then give them something to focus on.”  Bobby frowned, noting the crushed cigarette on the ground.  “What did you use to buy those?”

            “Some cash I got from Blake’s account.  Why?”

            “Because cash is something we’re in short supply of right now, that’s why!”

            It was Adam’s turn to shrug.  “They froze my assets, but I figured they couldn’t freeze Blake’s.  We actually share everything, even the stuff that just has one of our names on it.  I can just go to any ATM and...”

            “Like hell!”  Bobby was scowling now.  “You want Ketch to figure out what you are, just keep going right on like you’re going! You’re our best chance at beating that son of a bitch, ya idjit!  You can’t keep risking yourself like this!”

            “Then what are we going to do for money?  You want us to go out and get jobs?”

            Bobby rolled his eyes.  “Adam, we just talked about giving the band something to do in order to give them something to focus on.  We’ll use them, but we’ll be smart about it!  You’ll take a few of them somewhere way the hell away from us...”

            “I can take them to L.A.!”

            “Only if you take them someplace remote,” Bobby warned.  “Somewhere you won’t be seen!  You can drop them off, let them walk to an ATM, withdraw the money we need, and then go back to you.  We can do the same thing for supply runs.  But Adam, we need to utilize you as little as possible.  You’re the one person we can’t afford to lose!  If Ketch gets his hands on you, that’s not just bad for you, but it’s also bad for Blake, and even worse for Cass!”

            “Yeah, I hear you,” Adam sighed.  “That’s smart.  Ok, when do we want to do these bank runs?”

            “Not until at least next week, by the very earliest,” Bobby grumbled.  “Give the heat some time to die down so everyone’s not looking so hard for you.”

            Adam nodded eagerly.  “So for now, just basic supply runs?”

            “You got it,” Bobby agreed.  “And same thing, alright?  Land somewhere out of sight and you stay hidden while the band does what needs doing.  Based on what they told me, we might not even have to disguise them that much.  They’re under the impression that, working with you, they’re practically invisible?”

            Adam squirmed.  “I never wanted it to be that way and I never wanted a solo career, but yeah. I guess that’s kind of true.  Most of our fans probably can’t even name all of them, which is bullshit, because they’re incredible, amazing, talented...”

            “In this case, that works to our favor,” Bobby soothed.  “It means they can put on hats and sunglasses and keep their heads down and maybe not get recognized.  But Adam? You can’t!”

            The singer seemed to wilt.  “I’m sorry,” he said humbly.

            Bobby rolled his eyes.  “Balls, boy, you’re a rock star!  You’re supposed to be recognized!  Don’t you ever be ashamed of what you are!  And stop trying to be something you’re not.”  He gave Adam a gentle smile.  “What you are now, you’ll never be quite the same, Adam.  But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.  You find a way to make it good, and you hold tight to Blake.  You hear me, boy?”

            Adam was smiling brightly.  “Yes, sir, I do!”  He suddenly rushed forward and grabbed the grizzled hunter in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” Bobby grumbled.  “Now get offa me, I ain’t Blake!  Tell me you can cook?”

            Adam let him go.  “Cook?  Um, do you mean so it’s, like, edible?”

            “Balls!  Only one of the lot of you that can cook is PJ, and his shit’s so spicy I was up half the night with heartburn!  Where the hell is Dean?  I miss some decent food!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun sighed about Bobby doing exactly what Ketch anticipated he would do. Says that makes him mad, but Ketch wouldn’t be as good of a douchebag as he was unless he was good at being a douchebag. Mentioned that Ketch is a douchebag. Was nice to see Bobby and Adam interacting. Is glad Adam admitted he couldn’t cook!


	15. Confessions and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally confronts Lawyer Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song I wrote this to is "Fix You" by Coldplay  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXq-14lV79s
> 
> Rough chapter ahead, be mindful!

            Dean closed his eyes.  “I’m dead in your reality,” he declared.  “That’s why you took me, why you acted so weird!  I figured something bad went down between you and Other Me, based on the way you were acting towards me.  But when you said you hadn’t seen him in a while, it was for a damned good reason!”  He scoffed and looked back at the lawyer.  “You know, I was so ready to kick his ass for walking out on you, Sam. But he didn’t walk out!  He died!”

            The lawyer’s face was twisted in anguish. “Dean...”

            Dean raised his hand.  “No.  Tell me the truth.  Your own wife had no idea I was here?!”

            Sam shook his head.

            “What about Blake?  Does he know?”

            Again, that shake of the head.

            Dean’s stomach sank.  He stared at the lawyer in disbelief.  “Sam, who _does_ know that I’m here with you right now?  Does anyone?!”

            “No.”  The reply was almost a whisper.  “Adam and Blake know you’re with me, but they don’t know where I took you.  And they likely believe that you agreed to come, that you’re here of your own free will because you chose to be!”  He shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  I lied to you, and to everyone.  I even turned off my phone so no one could reach me until I went to the bathroom at the diner!  No one knows what I’ve done.  I took you away under false pretenses, and no one knows where you are!”

            Dean stared at him.  “So, what, you kidnapped me?”

            His answer was a silent nod.

            Dean’s breathing was coming fast.  “Holy shit.  You seriously did!  You kidnapped me!  You took me away because you want _him_ back!  You put me in his room, gave me his clothes...”  Dean shook his head, suddenly angry.  “Dammit, Sam, this has nothing to do with me!  You took me, but what you really wanted was him!  I’m not him, ok?  I’m just not!”

            Lawyer Sam made a small sound.  He took a few steps closer to Dean and reached out. But Dean quickly stepped back, hands raised defensively.  “Don’t touch me!  You lied to me!  You tricked me!  You _kidnapped_ me, Sam!  What the hell is wrong with you?!  I’m sorry your brother’s dead, dude, but you can’t just replace him with me!”

            “No, you don’t understand!”  Sam was frantically waving his hands.  “Just listen, ok?  Dean, my Dean, h-he had a drinking problem.  After he got arrested the last time, I told him if he didn’t stop drinking, then I didn’t want him around my kids.  And that seemed to work!  For years he was fine!  H-he even got a job, but he just couldn’t stay away from that damned bottle!  And I didn’t even know it, that he was drinking again, until one night he got so drunk he drove his car off a bridge and died! That’s why I had her rebuilt!”  He was reaching for Dean again.  “Dean…”

            Dean swatted his hand away.  “I said don’t touch me!  I’m sorry about your brother, but what the hell were you trying to do with me, Sam?!  Did you think you could take me out here, put me in his room, dress me in his clothes, and everything would suddenly be back like it was?!”

            Sam again reached for him.  “Dean...”

            “No, don’t _touch_ me!!”  Dean’s hands were clenched into fists.  “What were you thinking, bringing me here?  You had to know I was suspicious!  Sooner or later, I would have figured it out!  What was the plan then, huh?  You didn’t think I’d be pissed off when I realized what you’d done to me and why?”

            The lawyer swallowed.  “I...  I’m sorry!”

            “You’re sorry?  That’s all you have to say for yourself?!”  Dean shook his head in disbelief.  “Dammit, Sam! What the hell do you _want_ from me?!”

            “I don’t know!” Lawyer Sam exclaimed. “Dean, I don’t know, alright?  It’s just…  Dean died, a-a-and I never got to tell him anything!  He died all alone, and he never knew how much I loved him, how much I appreciated all he did, everything he sacrificed…”  Sam’s head was shaking rapidly, his breathing quick. “Dean was more of a parent to me than either of our parents!  Hell, he got hit by both of them more than once over shit I did!”

            Dean straightened.  “Your parents hit you?”

            Sam nodded, his expression bitter.  “Dad was a drunk, and mom pretty much thought we were an inconvenience.  They both slapped us around more than once.”

            Dean narrowed his eyes.  “Then I’m glad your brother at least tried to protect you, even though he shouldn’t have had to!”

            “That’s just it!” Sam exclaimed.  “Dean, he was always there for me, no matter what!  And I let him down!  I wasn’t there, that night.  I-I didn’t even know he was drinking again!  I thought he was sober and set up in his new job, so I didn’t check on him.  I left him alone!  I wasn’t there!  And he died, all alone, because I was too damned busy with my own bullshit to realize that the one person in my whole fucking life who loved me unconditionally was giving up!  It’s my fault!”

            “What?!”  Lawyer Sam was swaying on his feet, and Dean quickly grabbed him.  “Hey, come on, breathe!  What do you mean, it’s your fault?”

            “He needed me!  My brother needed me, and I didn’t even take the time to go and check up on him!  I let him down! I was so busy, and I never took the time to really see how bad he was getting!  I didn’t even know he was drinking again!  I…”

            “Whoa, hold it!”  Dean gave him a shake.  “Sam, how the hell could you know he needed help if you didn’t even know he was drinking? Dude, you did _not_ put a bottle in his hand, ok?  If he basically drank himself to death, he did that because he chose to do it!  It’s not your responsibility to make him happy!”  He shook his head.  “Holy shit, did you seriously just kidnap me and take me out here out of some misplaced sense of guilt?”

            “No, dammit, I took you out here because you’re him! The closest to my brother I’ll ever get again!  Dean, I took you because I wanted one more chance to tell you how much I loved you, how much I needed you!”  The lawyer’s eyes were almost glazed as he clutched at Dean’s arms.  “You’re my brother, Dean, the only real family I have! You took care of me all of our lives, and I never told you what it meant!  I need to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you, and… And…”  Lawyer Sam suddenly looked up, his eyes full of fury.  “How fucking _pissed_ I am at you for leaving us the way you did, Dean!  For being so dependent on that bottle that it meant more to you than me and Jess, than your niece and nephews that adored you and needed their uncle, than the life of anyone else who might have been on the road that day!”  His hands went up, curved into claws that gripped Dean’s shirt and shook him savagely. “Dammit, Dean, I loved you, and you left us!  Why?!  Tell me!  What could I have done differently?  How could I have kept you from leaving us like that?!”

            “Nothing, Sammy.”  Dean pulled Lawyer Sam in, held him tightly.  “There was nothing you could have done.  In the end, we all make our own choices.  This one was mine, ok?  I saw the kind of man the bottle turned our father into, and I still made the choice to follow in his footsteps.  And there was nothing you could have done to change it!”

            The lawyer broke down completely.  He collapsed against Dean’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably and would have fallen if Dean hadn’t held him up.  “It’s alright,” Dean soothed.  “It’s ok, Sammy.  Just let it out.”

            “I tried!” Sam sobbed.  “I tried, dammit!  I got you out of jail every time you’d get arrested for public intoxication or getting into fights or whatever other stupid shit you’d do when you drank.  I’d get you into rehabs and get you a job once you’d dried out.  B-but I couldn’t make you stay away from the drink!  Why, Dean?  Would it have helped if I’d have just been there more for you?  If I hadn’t taken that partnership, or taken so many trips, or spent so much time with Jess and the kids?  Would you have been alright if I’d just spent more time with you instead? If I’d only have been there for you the way you were for me, then...”

            “Do you even hear yourself?!  Sammy, look at me!”  Dean cupped the lawyer’s face in both of his hands and waited until the green eyes met his.  “You are a husband and a father before you’re anything else, including a brother!  And just because I took care of you when we were kids doesn’t mean you have to turn your back on your family to take care of me!”

            The lawyer’s body sagged again.  Dean grabbed him in a tight hug.  “It’s not your fault,” he soothed, desperately hoping he was doing the right thing.  “My choices, the decisions I made?  That’s all on me, little brother!  You didn’t put a bottle in anyone’s hand, especially mine.  I took that last drink, and I got behind the wheel.  Nothing you could have done or said could have prevented it, because it’s what I chose to do, alright?  You’re right, Sammy.  I was a selfish son of a bitch who cared more about the booze than about my family.  And I deserve precisely what I got, ok?”

            Sam shook his head frantically and tried to pull away.  “No, Dean! You didn’t...”

            Dean held him tight.  “I was drunk behind the wheel!  What if I’d killed someone else, huh?” he reminded.  “Better me than someone innocent!  And don’t you dare feel guilty because you were with your kids! The only real job you’ve got in your life is to be a better father to them than our dad was to us.  That’s it!  Ok?”

            Sam sobbed into his shoulder.  Dean simply held him and let him cry.  And then the lawyer stiffened again with a gasp.  He quickly disengaged, turning away from Dean and wiping angrily at his face with the hem of his shirt.  “S-sorry, Dean!” he managed, looking embarrassed.  “I know you’re not really…  I mean…”

            “Hey, it’s ok,” Dean called quietly.  “I kind of get the feeling this was a long time in coming.  And I’m fine with it, buddy.  You needed to see your brother and have that talk, right?  That’s why you took me?”

            The lawyer nodded, looking miserable.  Dean gently steered him towards the living room. “Then I don’t mind playing the role. I’m here, buddy.  And if I was gone and your brother was with my Sammy?  I’d hope he would do the same thing!”  Dean pushed the lawyer into the love seat and sat next to him, taking his hand.  “I’m here, Sam.  I’m here.”

            It was like a dam broke.  The lawyer clung to Dean and sobbed like his heart was breaking. He could feel the tension draining out of Sam as tears soaked through Dean’s shirt.  And after a bit, he finally quieted.  “Thank you,” Sam whispered.

            “It’s alright,” Dean said quietly.  “You got anything more you need to say to me?”

            The shaggy head shook.  “I’m alright.  No, that’s a lie,” Sam amended.  “I’m not alright.  I very clearly have a lot of shit I still need to work through.  Losing my brother?”  He shook his head again.  “That was like losing part of myself, Dean!  And it broke me.  I never recovered, and when you literally fell into my arms...?”

            “Like I said, it’s ok.  I understand now why you took me.”  Dean gave Sam’s hand a squeeze and let go.  Then he leaned back next to the chagrined lawyer with a sigh.  “The only thing I’m upset about is that you lied to me.  Why would you think you had to lie to me to get me to come with you?  You should have just told me about your brother in the first place, Sam!  I’d have let you take me if you had, and probably would have given you a lot less trouble!”

            “Yeah, and I probably should have realized that,” Sam grumbled.  “But I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.”  The green eyes met Dean’s.  “Dean, thank you.  For letting me do this.”

            Dean smiled.  “Hey, no problem!  If I helped even a little, then I’m glad you brought me out here.  But I do have one question for you.”

            “What is it?”

            “What about me?” Dean asked.  “I mean, me me, the me who would very much like to get back to my angel and then get us both back home?  How long are you planning to keep me out here?  Because I got a brother, too, Sam, one I care about as much as you cared for Dean.  And I’d very much like to see him again!  That means I gotta find my angel, and we need to find a way to get back to our own world and back to Sammy before he does something stupid!”

            Sam winced as if struck.  “Your brother is here, Dean,” he confessed.

            _“What?”_

            Lawyer Sam told him everything that had happened, how he’d caught Dean when he’d come through the portal, dazed and disoriented from the strain Cass’s banishment had put on him through their link.  How the lawyer had clearly seen Dean’s brother come through as well.  And how he’d spoken to that very brother, gotten him to act in his place as Blake’s lawyer, all so that he could steal this time with Dean.  “I did a terrible, selfish thing,” Sam admitted.  “Because I really did kidnap you, Dean!  I even reached out for your angel myself, and specifically asked him not to come for you, to give me this time!”

            Dean blinked.  “You knew I needed my angel, and you asked him to stay away?  That’s why he hasn’t contacted me?”

            “He told us that he could hear us if we reached out for him, so...  I asked him to stay away.  Adam’s being all mysterious about where he is, but if Castiel heard me?”  Sam seemed to shrink.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  I took you away from your brother, from your angel, from everyone who might be able to help you, just so I could use you to help deal with losing my brother. Because I couldn’t deal with the pain of it!  Because I never got over Dean’s death, and seeing you brought up all the shit that’s been churning inside of me since the day he died!”

            Dean was silent.  He stood up and walked a short distance away, putting his back to the lawyer.

            Lawyer Sam squirmed.  Then he got up and moved after Dean.  “Say something, would you?  I just told you that I lied to you and kidnapped you, for fuck’s sake!  You must have something to say!”

            “Oh, I got something for you, alright.”

            “What?”

            Dean’s answer was a hard right that sent Sam sprawling on the floor.  “You son of a bitch!” Dean spat.

            “I know it was selfish,” the lawyer grunted from the floor.  “I took you away from your brother and Castiel, and that’s where you draw the line. I get it!”

            “No, I don’t think you do, Sam!  You think you’re the only person who’s ever lost someone?!  I can’t fucking believe you, that someone as smart as you are could completely miss what’s right in front of his big honking nose!”

            The lawyer blinked up at him, confused, and Dean rolled his eyes.  “You couldn’t save your Dean, and dammit, you’ve got every right to be angry at him! He was a selfish bastard for doing what he did, and if I could kick his ass, I would!  But I can kick yours, and I’m about to!”  Dean pointed accusingly towards the door.  “Because right through that door, down the hall, and in the solarium? You’ve got a wife and three beautiful children!”

            Sam flinched.  “We’re divorcing, Dean.  She’s not...”

            Dean held up a hand to silence him.  “That woman came out here looking for you because she was worried about you, Sam!  She called you three times last night to check on you, just because she sensed you were upset!  You know what that means?  That means you’re _soulmates!_   Now you may have lost your Dean, but my brother Sammy?  He lost _her!_ ”  Dean stabbed an accusing finger towards the doorway.  “He lost Jess, his soulmate, and he never had those kids!  I’m sorry you lost your brother, but that’s on him. You lose your family?  That’s on  _you,_ Sam!”  He shook his head in disgust.  “You took me away because you wanted another day with your brother?  Well, guess what, pal?  Sammy would have given his right arm for even one more minute with the woman he loved!  You got her! All he’s got is me.  And personally, I think he got the shit end of that stick!  Now you get up off of your ass and go tell that woman how much you love her, because my brother will never again have that chance!  And then, when you’ve promised her that you’ll do whatever the fuck you have to do to save your marriage?  You come back out to me, and you take me back to my angel.  Because I refuse to let the chance you’re throwing away pass me by!”

            Lawyer Sam got to his feet and carefully brushed himself off.  Then he looked at Dean.  “Your Sam lost Jess?”

            “To a demon,” Dean informed him.  “The same demon that took our mother.”

            “She wasn’t the greatest mother, Dean,” Sam sighed. “I’m sure it’s poor consolation, but she wasn’t.”

            “At least you had her.”

            “Yeah.  There was that.”  He looked towards the doorway as if he could see his family.  “I do love Jess.  I think I fell in love the first time I saw her, walking across the campus at Stanford. And you’re right, she’s my soulmate. This whole thing, it’s been tearing me apart!  But I just couldn’t tell her.  When I lost Dean, it broke me.  I couldn’t bear the pain, couldn’t express how badly I was hurting.  So I shut everyone out, including the one person I should have been clinging to the most.  And I destroyed my marriage!”  He looked anxiously at Dean.  “How do I fix this now?  What do I even say to her?”

            “The truth,” Dean advised.  “That’s something that got rather strongly impressed on me recently.  If you want to be happy, to have the one you love with you?  Then you tell her the truth.”  He chuckled.  “You don’t even know just how amazing that woman really is, Sam!  I mean, come on!  She called you three times last night and then brought the kids and came over here to see you because she knew you were upset, buddy!  Before she spoke to you, and even after you told her you were fine, she still knew the truth.  Where I come from, that means the two of you are soulmates!  So you go in there now,” he advised, pointing again at the door, “and you tell her how you feel about her.  Because you never know, Sam.  One day, you might just look around and discover that the one you love just isn’t there! Believe me, I know!  And so does Sammy.”

            Sam gave him a small smile.  “Thank you.”

            Dean smiled back.  “You’re welcome.  Now go save your family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks the punch was a long time coming. Liked the anger from both of them, because Sam’s rage at Dean for leaving him is very understandable, and Dean’s anger was more than appropriate after what Sam did. But all the anger Sam had built up over the time Dean’s been gone was very appropriate. He blamed himself, but at the same time, he was blaming the right person for leaving him. It was very hard-hitting. 
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> The heart and soul of the show "Supernatural" is the extraordinary bond between the two brothers. In the first 4 1/2 minutes of the show, four-year-old Dean carries his infant brother out of their burning house the night their mother was murdered, and Dean never stopped caring for Sam. The two of them have demonstrated time and again that they're willing to do almost anything for each other. In fact, their bond was even strong enough to defeat Lucifer himself!
> 
> This clip here is very difficult to watch. Lucifer, possessing Sam, has already killed Castiel. This moment, more than any other, demonstrates just powerful the bond between the brothers really is!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBaBr2y-63c


	16. Tangled Webs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ketch questions Blake and Hunter Sam, who must try to convince the suspicious Man of Letters that he's actually speaking to Lawyer Sam.

            Arthur Ketch, it seemed, had a lot of pull in high places.  It was the only way he could have gotten into Blake’s home past all the various members of law enforcement.  He hadn’t even shown a badge.  He’d simply spoken with someone in a low voice, and immediately he’d been allowed in.  Now the bastard was sitting on Blake’s sofa like he owned the place, sipping a cup of tea. And, along with being a walking cliché with his damned tea, he was a bastard.  So far, he’d been polite in words and deeds.  But the way his eyes constantly lingered hungrily on Hunter Sam had Blake literally on the edge of his seat, poised and tense and just waiting for trouble.  It was like watching a shark circle.  Blake could almost hear the theme from “Jaws” playing in his head every time Ketch looked at Sam.

            “Reconsider my offer,” Ketch was saying.  “You’re a legacy to the Men of Letters, Sam Winchester.  Your place is with us.  Your skills as a lawyer could be put to good use, as well!”

            “Thanks, but I’m happy where I am at,” Hunter Sam replied.  The hunter was nearly as tense as Blake, but Blake only knew that because he knew Sammy.  His green eyes were remarkably calm as he stared down Ketch.  “Mr. Ketch, can I ask that you please stop trying to recruit me and focus on the real issue?  My clients...”

            “Your clients, yes, let’s do discuss them.”  Ketch sipped the tea again.  “Where are they, exactly?”

            “They’re in a safe place,” Sam declared in his best lawyer voice.  “And they’ll remain in that _undisclosed_ location until such time as we deem safe for them to emerge.  That’s where you come in, Ketch.  Your organization has the ties and the resources to help fight the charges against them.”

            “Those charges are bullshit in the first place!” Blake complained.  “Neither Adam nor Castiel are responsible for what happened to me!”

            “And what, exactly, did happen to you, Mr. Shelton?”  Ketch’s voice was quiet.

            “Doesn’t matter,” Sam called as Blake opened his mouth.  “The charges that originally resulted in the arrest of my clients were clearly unwarranted because Mr. Shelton obviously hasn’t been murdered!  Every other charge that has been levied against them directly stems from that wrongful arrest!”

            “Oh, really?  You’re going to tell me that the men with their eyes burned out at that safe house by a rogue angel are the direct result of a wrongful arrest?”

            “And what reason can you offer?” Sam challenged.  “If Cass attacked people, it was because he was defending himself or Mr. Levine.  The fact that this happened at a so-called safe house is just a bit troubling to me!”

            Blake had been watching Ketch.  The Englishman’s face never changed expression.  But his hand paused for just a moment when he was setting down his teacup. Blake glanced at Sam, but if the hunter had noticed, he gave no sign.

            “Besides,” Sam was saying, “is that really what you want to go to the police with? That a rogue angel burned out the eyes of these people?  Regardless of what really happened back there, it’s in the best interest of your organization to come up with some way to exonerate my clients!”

            “That is going to be extremely difficult.”

            “No one promised you a rose garden, Mr. Ketch!  And I note you said it would be difficult, not impossible.  That tells me it can be done.”  Sam folded his hands and leaned towards Ketch.  “So tell me.  What is the plan?”

            Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Samuel Winchester, Attorney-at-law, is your middle name perhaps ‘Impossible?’”

            “No, actually it’s William.  Get back to the point.”

            Blake was watching Ketch closely now, and saw the way the man’s eyes narrowed for half a second.  “You really are quite the stubborn git,” Ketch grumbled.

            “It’s one of my many charms,” Sam announced.  “Tell me the plan so I can relay it to my clients.”

            Ketch leaned back.  “First, let’s discuss the angel.  Do you recall the terms of our original arrangement, Mr. Winchester?”

            Sam leaned back as well, mirroring him.  “Refresh my memory.  I’d like to be certain you didn’t alter any of the details.”

            Blake thought that was a stroke of genius.  It was obvious that Hunter Sam had already said or done something that had aroused Ketch’s suspicions that he might not be Lawyer Sam.  But the hunter’s response to Ketch’s obvious trap simultaneously got him out of the necessity of explaining something he couldn’t possibly know and established their lack of trust for Ketch. 

            Again, that slight narrowing of the eyes.  “The angel was rogue, not from our universe, and with no loyalty or ties to anyone or anything,” Ketch explained.  “Therefore, we agreed that it was necessary to confine him.”

            “Enochian runes,” Sam said calmly.

            Blake wasn’t sure that was English, but his reward was another eye narrow from Ketch.  “Yes,” Ketch confirmed.  “A runed cuff.  And Mr. Levine carried the key.”

            Sam gave an exaggerated sigh.  “See, this is precisely what I meant about altering the details!  You didn’t give that key to Mr. Levine, you gave it to me! And no, I did not use it to free Castiel.  He managed that all on his own.  So drop the sanctimonious bullshit, Ketch.  I had nothing to do with those people dying, alright?!”

            Blake was hard-pressed to keep a straight face as he saw the flush rise in Ketch’s cheeks.  How in the hell had Sammy known all of that?  Ketch wasn’t even trying to pretend he was trying to do anything but trick the hunter, catch him in some mistake that could prove he wasn’t Lawyer Sam. But Hunter Sam, Blake thought proudly, was living up to what Blake had told Adam.  He was as smart as he was tough.

            Ketch, though, barely missed a beat.  “My mistake.  Yes, you were entrusted with the key, with the understanding that it was to be used only in an emergency.  The angel was not supposed to be left free to run amok and cause exactly the situation he did!”

            “If someone attacked Adam, then I’d say it was a damned emergency!” Blake spat. “I learned a lot about Castiel while I was in that other universe, and he’s not the type of guy to just indiscriminately kill people!”

            “An expert on angel behavior now, are you, Mr. Shelton?”  Ketch’s voice was maddeningly calm.  “If I’m not mistaken, the one and only time you actually met this angel, it resulted in a violent physical altercation and you being sent to another reality!”

            “Sending me to the other universe was an accident!”

            “Was the rest of it?”  Ketch reached into a briefcase at his feet and pulled out a stack of photos.  He put them on the table in front of Blake, displaying shots of Blake’s living room.  “There are obvious signs of violence.  Your husband actually came out to speak with the police with blood, identified as yours, all over his face and hands.  You see?”  He tapped one of the pictures, and Blake felt cold at the sight of the blood on Adam’s face. “Displaced furniture, blood, even a fired bullet!  This is the angel that you claim ‘isn’t the type of guy to just indiscriminately kill people,’ is it then?”

            “A lot happened that night,” Blake growled.  “Ok, yeah, it looks really bad in these pictures, and I guess I can kind of see why they arrested Adam.  But the worst Cass did to me was throw me down on my ass!  He didn’t hurt either one of us!  Hell, Adam did more damage to Cass than he did to us!”

            “And these?”  More photos appeared, and Blake drew back in horror at the burned-out eyes, the broken bodies.  “These are from the prison.  They will never see the light of day outside of our files because they’re impossible to explain by ordinary means.  We had to plant a story about a riot and kill one of the guards to make it believable!  But don’t worry.”  Ketch’s handsome face curled into a smile that never touched his cold eyes.  “We made absolutely certain that the dead guard is the one who allowed your husband to be attacked in prison.”

            Blake stopped breathing.  Adam had been in prison.  While Blake hadn’t forgotten that fact, he’d managed to push it to the back of his mind. Now suddenly it was all he could think about.  His Adam. His sweet, sassy, smart-mouthed husband, the one who could never blend in, could never keep his head down, no matter the circumstance.  What had happened to Adam?  A dozen horrible scenerios flashed through Blake’s mind.  Someone had hurt Adam, a guard had let Adam be _attacked,_ what did that mean?!  In his mind, he saw Adam cowering in a corner, looking terrified, desperately calling for help as unseen figures menaced him.  Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air.  Blake gasped, trying to breathe, imagining Adam crying out as hands reached for him...

            Then, just when Blake was certain he would pass out from lack of oxygen, Hunter Sam’s powerful hand clamped on his arm, instantly grounding Blake back in reality. “Mr. Ketch, I’ll thank you to stop terrorizing my client!” Sam snapped.  “And the entire incident at the prison further illustrates the point.  If Castiel is responsible for this, the fact that Mr. Levine was attacked is clearly the reason why!  Mr. Levine was attacked and Castiel rescued him the only way he knew how.  And I see nothing at all in these pictures that tells me any differently!”

            “Nor do I,” Ketch agreed, surprising Blake.  “Except, of course, for motive.  Why would the angel do this, risk this type of exposure, kill these men, and take Levine out of the prison?”

            “Because Castiel is his friend!” Sam declared.

            Ketch’s smile grew wider.  “Oh, indeed! And perhaps a bit more than that?”

            Blake frowned.  “What the hell are you yammerin’ about?”

            “My organization has been monitoring the angel since he arrived, because our inside operatives in law enforcement notified us of the sigils present at your home, Mr. Shelton,” Ketch explained.  “Based on the spell design, it wasn’t hard to figure out that a creature from another realm had been trying to return home.  With you gone and this mysterious man now present in the house, logic dictated that something had gone wrong with the spell, you’d been sent to this other world and the creature from that world was now trapped here, in the form of this man. Honestly, we had to do very little work. Everything we needed to know, the angel told us himself.  He actually found our web site and contacted us multiple times, explaining his situation and asking for help!”  Ketch chuckled.  “The case reached my desk because the angel gave us your name, Mr. Winchester, and that of your late brother, as well as the late Robert Singer, one of the original hunters we recruited.  It seems that the Winchester family’s legacy with the Men of Letters is intact in both universes.”

            “Fascinating,” Sam growled.  “But you just made a very inflammatory statement about my client, Mr. Levine! I’m waiting to hear an explanation?”

            “And I assure you, one is forthcoming!  I just wanted you to understand that we’ve been watching the angel from the start, either using real connections in law enforcement or having operatives impersonate them.  There were times when our operatives would leave a scene after interviewing a witness just moments before the real FBI arrived!  With the names the angel was throwing out, combined with the fact that this was potentially an actual angel from another dimension, the case was given the highest priority and no expense was spared.  We followed the angel and Mr. Levine from Oklahoma to Los Angeles and multiple stops in between, all to determine two things.  First, was this Castiel actually an angel?  And second, what did he want?”  Ketch produced another photograph.  “That’s how we obtained that.  One of our operatives we had tailing them took it through a telescopic lens.”

            Blake stared at the picture, vaguely aware of Sam’s gasp next to him.  Shock swallowed words.  Castiel was surrounded by a nimbus of light.  His eyes blazed blue-white, and a familiar pair of shadowy black wings extended from his back.  But his stance was clearly menacing.  He had a terrified Adam pinned against the wall.  The expression on his husband’s face made Blake’s stomach churn. “Dammit, Rockstar!” he exclaimed at the man in the picture.  “What the hell did you do to piss him off?!”

            Ketch looked surprised.  “You feel that your husband did something to trigger this attack?”

            “Have you met Adam Levine?” Blake replied dryly.  “Given time and opportunity, that little shit could trigger damned near anyone to want to attack him.  I can’t believe Cass angeled out right in front of M5, though!”  He shook his head, eyeing the frightened faces of the band in the picture.  “What happened?  Adam wasn’t hurt, right?”

            “Not exactly hurt, no,” Ketch answered slowly.  “Mr. Shelton, have you been made fully aware of current events?”

            “Why don’t you tell me what you mean and I’ll let you know?”

            “Because I’m afraid this next part may be a bit delicate.”  Ketch had another picture, but he hesitated.  “As I mentioned, we were looking to discover exactly what Castiel was, and what it was he was after.  And this same incident provided answers to both.  According to our operative, prior to the attack, the angel seemed fine.  He was playing cards with Mr. Levine and his band, and all seemed well.  The operative states that the angel had been looking somewhat distressed as the game went on, and Mr. Levine was laughing and appeared to be enjoying himself.  Just before the attack, Mr. Levine looked towards the angel, made kissing motions, and winked.  It wasn’t much more than what he’d been doing with others in his group the entire evening. But this time, the angel grabbed him and did that.”  He gestured towards the picture.

            Sam and Blake exchanged a confused look.  “What are you saying?” Sam asked.

            Ketch’s eyebrow definitely went up now.  “I would have thought you’d understand, Mr. Winchester!  Don’t you recognize this night?  You didn’t prepare your client?”

            Sam stilled.  “As you can imagine, it’s been a rather difficult few days.  I’m sure I missed a few pertinent details.”

            “This was absolutely a pertinent detail!”  Blake didn’t care for the way Ketch once again eyed Sam hungrily for a moment before he looked at Blake with a fake expression of sympathy.  “Mr. Shelton, please accept my apologies. This isn’t the way any man should learn of something like this.”

            Blake accepted the photo he was handed.  He looked at it, and his entire world crashed to a halt.  There was Adam, still pinned to the wall by the angel. Adam’s hands were up, pressing against the angel as if trying to push him away.  Cass had Adam’s face between his hands and he was kissing him, Cass was kissing Adam, why, why was Cass kissing Adam?!

            Sam’s hand clamped painfully on Blake’s arm.  “The reason I didn’t discuss this with my client was because of the _context_ in which this incident took place!” he was saying loudly.  “You had no business springing that on him!”

            “And yet, you said nothing, made no objection until I showed it to him,” Ketch pointed out.  He pulled yet another photo from his briefcase.  “Do you plan to object to this one?”

            Sam snatched the picture, looked at it, and grimaced.  “Again, there’s _context_ here that completely negates what’s clearly being implied!” he protested, glancing meaningfully at Blake and stressing the word.  “I need a word with my client before...”

            Blake grabbed the picture, tearing it a little in his haste to get it out of the hunter’s hands, and stared.  There was Cass, carrying Adam towards what was obviously a bed.  “What the _fuck?!”_

            Sam had his arm again.  “Blake, we need to talk, alright?  Mr. Ketch, if you’ll please excuse us...?”

            “Our operative was unfortunately forced to abandon position just after that last photo was taken, so unfortunately I can’t give you the eventual outcome of the evening,” Ketch explained.  His eyes were locked on Blake.  “While it’s not typical, angels have, in the past, been known to develop sexual relations with humans, usually females.  Your husband is an extremely attractive man, and this angel was all alone.  Mr. Levine was vulnerable.  I suspect, in the beginning, the angel likely offered to assist with returning you, Mr. Shelton, in order to convince your husband to let him stay with him.  He stayed long enough to earn Levine’s trust.  But that night, when Mr. Levine quite innocently taunted the angel once too often...?”

            Blake groaned and rubbed at his forehead.  He felt sick.  _“Motherfucker!”_

 

            “Blake!” Sam yelled, giving Blake’s arm a harsh shake.  “We need to _talk!”_

            Blake angrily jerked his arm free.  “If Cass hurt him, if he forced himself on Adam...?!”

            Ketch spread his hands.  “We’ve got no way to know.  But I must confess, our organization did take steps to test just how attached the angel actually was to Levine.  After we’d lost track of the angel for a few days, we arranged for burned human remains to be found, and a witness to place both Levine and the angel at the scene.”

            Sam sucked in his breath.  “You set them up!  You made it look like they’d murdered Blake!  Blake, this bastard is the reason Adam was arrested!”

            “Correct.”  Ketch’s voice held no trace of regret.  “We needed to know if the angel was attached enough to Levine to attempt to retrieve him. And of course, he did.  It’s unfortunate that Mr. Levine was attacked in prison, but we had no way to know...”

            “No way to know?!”  Blake shook the picture he held in Ketch’s face.  “Fucking _look_ at him!  Adam’s beautiful, he’s cocky, and he’s no fighter! You had him thrown in with hardened criminals, you piece of shit!  How the hell did you think that was going to end?!  Those animals must have thought it was Christmas!!”

            Ketch pinched his lips.  “I am deeply sorry that he was attacked.  I won’t try to ask your understanding or forgiveness.  But the subsequent actions of the angel proved his attachment.  I was actually present, meeting with the remaining members of Maroon 5, as a representative of the Men of Letters when the angel returned him.  I will tell you that your husband didn’t appear to be injured in any way, simply shaken.”  He paused. “I’m afraid I must also inform you that your husband was clinging to the angel, and in fact, insisted on sitting in his lap.  However unwilling he may have been at the start of their physical relationship, at this point Levine seemed to be quite the willing...”

            “Bullshit!” Blake snapped.

            Ketch paused.  “The angel’s vessel is that of a very attractive man, Mr. Shelton.  And it’s fairly common knowledge that Mr. Levine favors blue-eyed brunettes.  I understand that this is difficult to hear, but Levine clung to the angel the entire time, and was quick to defend him.  When I insisted that the angel’s powers be locked away, he even...”

            “Enough!” Blake roared.  He leveled a finger in Ketch’s face.  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about right now, Ketch!  I don’t give a shit what you thought you saw, because I know my husband!  Adam would _never_ cheat on me, not with Cass, not anyone else!  And I won’t sit here and listen to you try to insinuate that he was a willing participant in anything that went on!”

            Ketch paused.  “Mr. Shelton...”

            “I believe my client was quite clear,” Sam called.  “I must insist you drop this entire subject!”  He pulled on Blake’s arm again.  “Blake, would you please come and talk to me?  This whole thing with Cass, it’s all out of context, ok?”

            “There is, of course, another explanation,” Ketch called quickly. “We’re speaking of an angel that must be unspeakably lonely, completely deprived of contact with his own kind. Based on the complexity of the glyphs found at your home, it’s clear that the angel is highly skilled in magic. Mr. Shelton, love spells do exist, and would be well within the angel’s power to cast.”  Ketch was leaning forward now, his eyes fixed on Blake.  “Tell me, have you heard from your husband at all since you’ve returned?  And has he seemed strange in any way, altered from the usual?”

            Altered from the usual.  The massive wings, the glowing eyes.  The impossible strength of Adam’s hands holding him down.  An angel completely deprived of contact with his own kind.  Adam had told him that Cass had put his Grace into Adam so that Cass could hide from the other angels until they found a way to get him back to his own universe.  But what if there was more to it?  Blake considered his beautiful, talented husband, and thought about how lonely Castiel must have been, trapped in this strange world.  He was an angel, not even human.  Angels lived by a different set of rules, operated under a different set of social standards.  And based on his relationship with Dean, Blake had already accepted that Castiel could and did fall in love with a human man.  But here, in this universe, far away from Dean and without even his own kind to help him, could there be another, far more sinister reason that Cass had altered Adam?  Blake’s hands clenched into fists, inadvertently crumpling the picture. “I...  He...  Adam is...”

            Ketch had been all ears, his eager eyes watching every fleeting expression as it crossed Blake’s face.  But suddenly Sam was up, moving to seize Ketch’s arm and drag the surprised Englishman to his feet.  “This interview is over,” he announced.  “And I’ll thank you to leave!  Can you see yourself out, or shall I have one of the gentlemen outside escort you?”

            “Actually, why don’t you escort me, Mr. Winchester?”  Ketch shrugged free and grabbed Sam’s wrist.  “As a legacy to the Men of Letters, I should bring you to our charter house here, make certain you’re protected.”

            “I’m in a house surrounded by police and FBI!” Sam reminded.  He frowned, trying to pull free.  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m going to regretfully decline at this time.”

            “I’m afraid I must insist.  As you are not only a legacy, but also a legacy who’s had close contact with this rogue angel, the possibility that you may be a target for demons is simply too high. I’ll need you to come along. There’s a ward you’ll need, an anti-possession tattoo, that...”

            “Like this one?”  Sam irritably pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing his tattoo.  “Again, I appreciate your concern, but I’m going to decline.  Now take your hands off of me!”

            Ketch narrowed his eyes.  “Isn’t that interesting?  You’ve only been acquainted with the knowledge of the supernatural for a very short period of time.  It couldn’t have been long since you got it, and yet that tattoo appears to be completely healed!”

            “Cass healed it, after he suggested I get it in the first place.”

            “And what about your client?”

            “Blake got one during his time in the other universe.”

            Ketch frowned, stepping closer to Sam and tightening his grip on the hunter’s wrist.  “And what about your family, Mr. Winchester?  As a husband and father, I find it decidedly odd that you learned you could be in danger and took it seriously enough to get an anti-possession tattoo, and yet you failed to mention them!”  He suddenly jerked Sam’s arm up, looking pointedly at Sam’s hand. “Oh, would you look at that! Where is your wedding ring, Mr. Winchester?”

            “None of your business!”  Hunter Sam glowered at him.  “Leave my family and my personal life out of this, and take your hands off of me!”

            Ketch hummed, smiling as he continued to examine Sam’s hand.  “Not even an indentation from a ring, or a tan line, and yet, when I last saw you just a few days ago, you were wearing a gold wedding band!  I noticed because you have a habit of rolling it around your finger with your thumb when you think.  But that’s a gesture I haven’t seen you make even once this entire time we’ve chatted.  Now isn’t that odd?”

            Sam twisted his wrist, trying to pull free.  “This discussion is over, Mr. Ketch!  I’m not coming with you, so let go of me!  Now!”

            Blake, who had been drowning in his own churning emotions and racing thoughts, finally registered what was happening.  He looked up, saw Ketch all but dragging Hunter Sam towards the door, and snapped out of his reverie.  “Hey!” he exclaimed, leaping to his feet to grab Sam.  “What the hell are you doing?!  You know what, I don’t care.  Take your hands off of my lawyer and get out of my house!”

            Ketch laughed.  “Oh come now, Mr. Shelton!  We both know that this is not your lawyer!  This is a monster, a creature from another dimension.  And he is coming with me!”

            “Like hell!”  Blake pushed his way between them, grabbed Ketch’s arm, and tore his hand away from Sammy. “The only monster I see in this room is you!  Now get your ass out of my house before I throw you out!”

            Ketch’s eyes narrowed.  “Don’t test me, Shelton,” he warned.  “I’ve got no quarrel with you, but I do have a job to do.  Now I am a hunter, and that man?  That man is a monster from another universe!”

            “Yeah, I kind of have firsthand experience with that!”

            “I’m not a monster!” Sam protested.  “I’m no threat to you or anyone else!  I’m actually a hunter myself, a-and I know you from my universe! Just leave me alone, or else help me find a way to get back to...”

            “Enough,” Ketch called, suddenly calm.  “Gentlemen, you do not have a choice in this.  As of this morning, everyone in this house is under my control. With a click of my fingers I can have this room filled with men, have you both arrested, and take the monster unimpeded.  Now Shelton, I still consider you little more than an innocent bystander in this.  But if you continue to impede my investigation...?”

            Blake sucker punched him.  Watching the bastard’s eyes roll back and seeing him crumble to the ground was one of the most satisfying moments of his life.

            Sam stared.  “Blake, you have been spending entirely too much time with Dean,” he noted.

            “Sometimes Dean’s got the right idea.”  He turned on the hunter.  “Sammy, what he said about Adam and Cass, do you think...?”

            “No!”  Sammy grabbed Blake’s shoulders.  “Blake, Cass isn’t doing anything with Adam!  Don’t you remember when we cast that spell on Country Adam in my world, had him switch places with Rockstar Adam in yours?”

            Blake was still shaken.  “Sam, what the hell does that have to do with...?”

            Sam gave him a shake.  “Remember when Country Adam came back, and my brother asked him about Cass? Specifically, what Cass asked him to pass along?”

            Understanding washed over Blake like a wave, followed by relief and then chagrin. “Fuck.  _Fuck!_   I blew it, didn’t I, Sammy?  I let that son of a bitch get me riled up, and I gave away that something’s up with Adam! Now he’s gonna go after him!  Fuck me!”

            “Blake, the jig’s up no matter what,” Sam sighed.  “I did my best, but that son of a bitch is just as sneaky here as he is in my world.  I never thought I’d say this, but I almost miss Crowley!  He’s sneaky too, but at least he’s honest, for the most part. With Ketch, he mixes lies and the truth until everything’s so muddy you can’t tell one from the other!”

            “You still did damned good,” Blake admired.  “I’m surprised you didn’t knock that bastard’s head off when he had hold of you.”

            “Trust me, the temptation was strong!  But Lawyer Sam likely isn’t a fighter, so I couldn’t display any fighting skills unless I had to.  Besides, he couldn’t have gotten in here unless he had most, if not all, of the cops here in his pocket.”  Sam shook his head, disgusted.  “He’s got me, Blake!  He knows I’m not from this world, and now I’m trapped in this house, surrounded by cops all under his control!  Dammit, I tried, but I just wasn’t good enough!”

            “We ain’t done yet.”  Blake grabbed Sam by the arm and started out, carefully making his way through the house to the kitchen.  “You still amazed the shit out of me!” Blake told him as they moved.  “I cannot believe how fast on your feet you were with his questions!  How the hell did you know Ketch gave that key to Lawyer Sam?”

            “Because it’s what I would have done,” Sam explained.  “Based on what I know of Adam, what you’ve told me about him? If Adam had the key to a cuff with Enochian runes that blocked Cass’s powers, I would almost guarantee he’d take it off the moment Ketch turned his back.  Lawyer Sam is the only one that could have been trusted to hold that key without taking the cuff off on a whim.  But that bastard still caught me, Blake!  The wedding ring was a dead giveaway, but I was screwing up left and right. Cass has always introduced himself as ‘Castiel,’ not Cass, and no one short of Dean would have the balls to shorten his name the way he did.  I gave myself away when I called him that, I did it again when I didn’t know about that picture, and again when I didn’t remember Lawyer Sam had a family he would have wanted to protect!  And worst of all, now he knows I have this tattoo!  Even if we get out of here now, I just gave Ketch a quick, easy way to tell the two of us apart!” 

            “Cross that bridge when we come to it.”  Leading Sam into the kitchen, Blake let him go and moved to peek out the window. “House is surrounded,” he reported. “I was hoping we could sneak out the pantry, but we got cops all around us.”

 

            Sam’s shoulders sagged.  “Blake, he’s got me!  He’ll wake up any second and start screaming for those cops.  Then they’ll come charging in here to take me!”

            “Like hell!  We still got an ace up our sleeve.”  Blake focused hard.  “Adam, come here, we need you, baby!”

            “You called?”

            Blake turned, saw Adam’s grinning face, and swept his husband into a tight embrace.  “Rockstar, we’re in the shit,” he explained as he let Adam go.  “Think you can get us out of here?”

            “Sure can!”  The hazel eyes moved to Hunter Sam.  “Nice to see you again!  It’s just uncanny how much you look like Lawyer Sam.  Gonna be interesting to get the two of you in one room.”

            Sam was wide-eyed, looking from Adam to Blake and back.  “I’m missing something, aren’t I?  How the hell did you get in here?!”

            “Guess again!” Adam declared.  He reached for Blake’s hand, and took Sam’s arm with the other.  Then there was a fluttering sound, and Blake was somewhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Ketch needs punched in the face with regular consistently, like every hour every day. Knew Hunter Sam had given himself away when he called Castiel “Cass.” Was yelling during the reading of this that Blake should have punched Ketch in the face as soon as he got smug about that picture and started saying shit about Adam. “You’re six foot five, Blake! Nail that son of a bitch!” Celebrated greatly when Blake actually did nail him. Thought Blake should kick him while he was down.


	17. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets an offer he didn't expect

            Dean did not want to open his eyes.  He was very comfortable, with a small warm weight on his stomach and two more small warm things tucked against his sides. All three snored softly.  Then he realized that there was something somewhat off about that, and forced himself awake.

            Dean blinked his eyes open, looked down, and saw a tiny blonde head lying low on his chest.  Two more blonde heads poked out of the covers on either side of him.  For a moment, he was completely confused. And then he remembered.  Yesterday.  Lawyer Sam’s family.  The lawyer’s wife bringing the children to meet the double of their dead uncle, assuring them that Dean wasn’t a ghost, that he’d never hurt them...  Dean had been sure it would never work, that the three were just too spooked.  But then again, he’d always been good with kids.  He’d kept them company while the lawyer finally mended things with his wife. And by that evening, they were trailing Dean around wherever he went.

            Still, he was sure all three had gone to their own beds last night.  Normally, Dean slept very lightly.  After a lifetime hunting monsters, he’d long ago learned to wake instantly in full fight-or-flight mode, grabbing for his weapon.  And yet, he had no idea when, or how, the three children had climbed in bed with him without waking him.  All he knew was that Deana was fast asleep on top of him, Deanie was drooling on his right shoulder, and Darren was snoring around the thumb in his mouth.  And Dean had never reached for a weapon.  Amazing.

            Footsteps upstairs, quiet voices.  Sam and Jess were awake, apparently.  Dean smiled, wondering if they had any idea that all three of their young children were currently sleeping with a strange man in a bed that had a loaded pistol under the pillow and an angel blade tucked under the mattress?  Well, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and Dean had no desire to be screamed at by an angry, over-protective mother.  Besides, it wasn’t Dean’s fault that all three children had snuck into bed with him in the night.

            “Uncle Dean?”

            Dean looked down and saw Deana’s sleepy green eyes blinking up at him.  He smiled again.  “Hey! What are you doing here?”

            “I didn’t want you to go back to Heaven, so I laid down on you,” the little girl explained.  “If Jesus came to take you, I was gonna tell him no.”

            Kids.  Had Dean ever been that young, that innocent?  Dean swallowed hard.  “I’m not really your uncle, Deana, remember?”

            She nodded, fisting the sleep from her eyes. “Mommy and Daddy said you’re Uncle Dean from another uni-berse,” she explained.  “But I don’t want you to go.  Are you gonna stay with us again?”

            Now the two boys were awake.  “Deana’s dumb,” Darren declared.

            “Am not!”

            “Are so!”

            “Jesus isn’t going to take him!” Deanie announced. “Uncle Dean’s an alien.”

            Darren nodded, agreeing with this.  “An angel named Castiel brought him here so we’d have our uncle back, Deana.”

            “Nuh uh!  Uncle Dean’s from Oz!”

            “Is not!”

            “Is so!”

            “Ok, boys,” Dean called gently.  “Why are you two here?”

            “Because we missed you.”

            “We didn’t want you to go away.”

            “He couldn’t go away, I was layin’ on him!”

            “I blocked him in!”

            “I held him down!”

            “Are you gonna live with us again, Uncle Dean?”

            “Um...”  Dean wasn’t sure what to say.  “I came here because I need to find someone very special to me.  He’s been lost for a long time, and I miss him almost as much as you missed your Uncle Dean.”

            “That’s ok!”

            “Castiel can live with us, too!”

            “Do you have an angel for a boyfriend?”

            “Jimmy’s got two dads, we can have two uncles!”

            Dean chuckled.  “Yeah, Cass is my boyfriend, and he’s an angel.  But I can’t stay.  See, I have a home of my own, and...”

            Deana burst into tears.  “Uncle Dean, I don’t want you to go back to Oz!”

            Shit.  Dean sat up, cradling the little girl.  Then the two boys started to wail, and a moment later Sam and Jess were racing down the stairs to scoop them up.  “Sorry,” Dean apologized, still holding a sobbing Deana.  “They think I’m their uncle, and they started asking me if I was going to stay.  I didn’t know what to tell them!”

            “It’s ok, Dean,” Jess assured.  She’d gathered up Darren while Deanie clung to his father. “Kids, mommy needs to talk to Dean for a bit.  Don’t cry, alright?  Go with Daddy and get some breakfast.”

            The children seemed to calm slightly.  Deana stubbornly clung to Dean’s neck and would only be persuaded to let him go after a great deal of soothing from all three adults. But at last, the children followed Sam upstairs.  The lawyer exchanged a glance with his wife before closing the door, leaving Dean alone with Jess.

            Dean sat on the side of the bed, feeling awkward. “I’m really sorry about that,” he apologized.  “I woke up and all three of them were in bed with me!  I guess that probably freaked you out a bit, seeing your kids in bed with a strange man.”

            “Not at all.”  She sat down next to him on the bed, seeming to compose her thoughts. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Dean.  I guess you know, about the problems Sam and I have had?  I imagine you would, as it’s directly related to what happened with the two of you!”

            Dean nodded, cringing slightly.  “Sam, um, had some trouble, dealing with me being here. You know, after what happened to his brother?  I guess having me right in his face, he kind of lost his shit a little.”

            She hummed.  “More than a little, Dean.  He told me he kidnapped you.”

            “Well, he didn’t pull a gun on me or anything, and if I really wanted to get away, I could have...”  He paused, noting the level stare he was getting.  Dean wilted.  “Yeah.  He kidnapped me.”

            For a woman talking to the kidnapped duplicate of her husband’s dead brother who had just upset all three of her children, Jess was remarkably calm.  “I’ve known for years that Sam has been... troubled.  After Dean died, he just shut down.  I tried to be understanding, supportive, and give him space.  But space was all he seemed to want from me. The kids, Deanie’s nine, Darren’s eight, and Deana’s seven.  Deana was barely out of diapers when Dean died.  I’m surprised she even remembers him, but I suppose, even gone, Dean never really left this house.  The boys adored their uncle.  They took it hard when he died, so I started taking them every week to the monastery to visit.  We’d talk to Dean, tell him things, and tell stories about him to each other.  It really seemed to help.  They got some closure, and Deana got to feel as though she knew her uncle better.  Now they look forward to it every week and even bring things, like schoolwork and stuff like that, to show their uncle.  But nothing I tried helped Sam.  I didn’t know it then, but I guess his guilt started the day he gave Dean that ultimatum and made him move out.”

            “He had every right to do that!” Dean grumbled. “If I couldn’t stay away from the bottle, then I shouldn’t be around kids like yours!”  He blinked.  “I mean... You know what I mean.”

            Jess nodded.  She brushed a lock of her long hair out of her face, her eyes sad.  “He never talked about losing Dean, but it was obvious that it was eating him up inside.  But he just bottled it all up.  You know, people would actually say to me that Sam was doing so well, that he’d recovered so quickly from losing his brother, considering how close they were. But they didn’t know Sam like I did. They didn’t live with him.  It was like part of him died with Dean.”

            “He told me,” Dean said quietly.  “I don’t agree with what he did to me, but I get it. In his position, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.”

            Jess reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “Here’s the thing, Dean.  Sam never talked about his brother to anyone, not really.  And you know all too well how that worked out.  But last night?”  She looked over at him.  “Last night, he talked to me.  Really talked to me, Dean.  And it was the first time we’d talked like that since his brother died.  Whatever you said to him yesterday?  It was something he desperately needed to hear. I have my husband back again.” She gave a soft smile.  “Sam grieved last night, Dean.  We went up to our bedroom and he just laid his head in my lap and cried and talked and finally let me comfort him like I wish he would have done from the start!”  She shook her head.  “You think you know someone.  But after all this time, I had no idea he’d blamed himself for his brother’s suicide! So much makes sense now!”

            “He’s an idiot,” Dean grumbled.

            “I agree.”  She squeezed his hand again.  “I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for him.  If it hadn’t been for you, we would have been divorced by the end of the month.  Now? Well, we’ve got a long way to go, but neither of us wanted to divorce in the first place.  Now we’re talking again... among other things.”

            Dean snickered, and Jess laughed, blushing prettily. She let go of his hand, folding her own hands on her lap.  Then she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.  “You’re a stranger,” she told him.  “All I know about you is that you’re from an alternate universe, and you hunt monsters, and you brought my husband back to life.  Sitting here like this with you, seeing you with my children? It should be awkward.  But it’s not.  Because I feel as though I’ve known you for years.  I’m not confused, or devastated by grief, or crazy.  I’m a woman who is madly in love with her husband and would do anything for him or her children.  And Dean?  The reason that the children were asking you if you were going to stay is because they overheard their father and me talking about it.”

            Dean sighed.  “Sam needs to understand that he can’t use me to replace his brother!  I thought he understood that!”

            “He does.  I’m the one who suggested we let you move in, if you can’t go back to your own world.  You, your angel, and your brother, if he’s willing.  He’s Sam, too, and I’d like to get to know him.”

            Dean stiffened.  “Jess, I can’t stay here!  The life I lead...”

            She held up her hand.  “You hunted monsters in your universe, not this one.  That life hasn’t followed you here.  And I know there’s some sort of bounty on you. But Sam is a criminal defense lawyer, and I’m in corporate law.  We’ve both seen our share of ruthless people.  I’ve already made some calls, trying to get some information on this ‘Men of Letters’ group.  Sam’s firm is something he’s very proud of, Dean, but mine is one of the top in the country at dealing with corrupt corporations.  If I can get them interested, get them involved?  We might just be able to help.  Meanwhile, we can offer you, Castiel, and your brother a safe haven.”

            “Can you offer us a safe haven from monsters? Jess, we’re from another universe! All of us, especially Cass, look like all-you-can-eat buffets for every fanged and clawed bastard that walks or crawls the night!  And those bounties?”  He shook his head.  “I didn’t have time to look much, so I don’t know if Sammy’s got a bounty on him.  But if he does?  Jess, when your husband first took me, I couldn’t tell the difference between him and my brother.  And if I can’t tell the difference, how can a bounty hunter looking to collect on someone listed as dead or alive?!”

            “Then I guess you’d better get this mess sorted.” She was remarkably calm.  “I’m warning you, Dean Winchester, that you better not let anything happen to my husband!  The two of you will be leaving today, so Sam can get you back to your angel and your brother.  Then I expect you will work very hard to get out of this mess you’ve found yourselves in. I’ll work on things on my end, you deal with anything or anyone that tries to come after you or Sam, Sam gets that poor Adam Levine out of the legal mess he’s in, and then you try to find a way back to your own universe.”  She took his hand again.  “But if you’re stuck here, Dean, or you decide you want to stay?  Know that you are welcome.  You can stay with us as long as you need to, to get on your feet.”

            Dean’s head was spinning.  “Jess, I...”

            “Just think about it,” she urged.  Dean suspected she was a wonderful lawyer. She squeezed his hand one more time, and then headed up the stairs.

            Dean stayed as he was, sitting on the bed, and thought about it.  He thought about Sam’s house, here in this nice neighborhood where no one knew monsters roamed the night.  He thought about the soft look in Sam’s eyes when he comforted his children.  He remembered how it felt last night to play with the three children, to wake up with them, trusting and innocent, in bed with him.  And he knew he wanted this, wanted the peace and contentment he’d felt since yesterday with Sam’s family.  It was the life Sammy had always wanted for himself.  Dean had a taste of it, with Lisa and Ben, but had given it up when his life had proved a threat to them.  Dean had learned the hard way that he couldn’t protect those close to him. But what about Lawyer Sam?  If Sammy really did have a bounty on his head like Dean did, which seemed likely, then Lawyer Sam was already in danger. In that case, the best thing he could do was to take the lawyer and get back to his brother and his angel as quickly as he could, enlist their help to protect Lawyer Sam.  Blake, he was sure, would help, and if Bobby was there as well, so much the better!

            But what if Jess was right?  What if she really could get Ketch and his people off of their backs?  They’d still be unicorns, of course, but dealing with monsters was nothing new.  Here, he and Sammy weren’t the chosen vessels of Michael and Lucifer.  Cass had never fought a war in Heaven or inadvertently helped banish all the angels.  Crowley wasn’t lusting after Dean.  And the long, long list of enemies they’d inherited from their father and added to over the years had been all but wiped clean!  If they were trapped in this universe, which seemed likely, especially if Bobby was here, too?  What would they do?  Did Dean dare to take Jess up on her offer, to stay here with her family until they could find a place of their own?  The children, Dean knew, would want to be associated with him, at least until they finally understood he wasn’t really their uncle.  And Lawyer Sam, well, Dean couldn’t deny that he already cared deeply about the lawyer, despite what Sam had done to him.  Maybe it was just that he was so much like Sammy, but somehow, Dean felt drawn to him.  Cass, Dean was sure, would follow Dean and stay wherever he decided.  But what about Sammy?  They’d invited Sammy into their lives, too!  That could go either way.  What if Sammy was traumatized by meeting with this version of Jess, seeing the children he’d never been able to have?

            Then again, apparently being able to see Dean, to tell him what he hadn’t gotten the chance to tell his brother, had been just what Lawyer Sam needed to finally start to heal from his grief.  Could meeting with Jess Winchester do something similar for Sammy?

            _Could I really do it?  Could I really be a part of their lives?  Is that really what I want?_

            The last question, at least, Dean already knew the answer to.

            By the time Dean cleaned up and dressed and went upstairs, the breakfast show was almost over.  Dean ate quickly, helped load the dishwasher, and then played with the kids while Jess packed for the children.  Apparently, she and Sam had contingency plans they were putting into action in case someone came after one of them.  The house even had a panic room!  It was a level of preparation almost worthy of a hunter, and Dean was impressed.  For his part, Sam was pacing around in the solarium, talking on his phone.  Apparently, something had gone down with Blake.  Dean hoped it wasn’t serious. 

            Dean was rolling around on the floor play wrestling with the kids when something hit the door and he jumped, his hand immediately going towards his weapons.

            “It’s the paper,” Sam called.  The lawyer was still on the phone, but apparently he’d seen Dean’s instinctive reaction.  “The paper boy’s an amazing shot.  He should try out for major league baseball.”

            Of course it was the paper.  What else would it be?  Embarrassed, Dean went out to get it.  He picked it up off of the doormat and blinked at the headline.  “SHELTON AND LAWYER VANISH FROM PROTECTIVE CUSTODY,” it screamed.  Oh.  No wonder Sam was so busy on the phone this morning.  Dean skimmed the story.  Apparently, Blake and his lawyer had been under protective custody at Blake’s ranch when they’d vanished under “mysterious circumstances.”  That didn’t sound good.  Dean frowned, suddenly realizing that the “lawyer” with Blake was Sammy.  What the hell had that stupid jerk gotten himself into now?

            Dean frowned, folding the paper.  And that was when he finally recognized a familiar red Camaro parked at the drug store down the block, moments before he realized he wasn’t alone.

            He barely had time to register the man who dove onto him from the side, driving him off of the stoop and into the flowerbed. Two more men raced around the side of the house to grab him.  Dean twisted quickly, landed a good punch or two before they pinned him.  Then he looked up to the smiling face of Skinhead from the motel.  “Nice to see you again, asshole,” Skinhead called.  He made a twirling motion.  “Flip him over, let’s get him tied and be on our way before...”

            Skinhead grunted and stumbled forward.  He turned, blinked at the furious blond woman who’d just attacked him.  Then he was on his ass as she swept his legs and expertly followed up with a sharp kick to the kidney.

            Jess, apparently, had some skill with martial arts. She was after one of the men pinning Dean now, leaving Dean free to pound the third.  Meanwhile Skinhead was getting back up, murderous eyes on Jess. Nuh uh.  Dean had his weapons out and was training them on Skinhead. “Enough!” he yelled.  “Back off, before I ventilate your ass!”

            “That goes double for me!”

            Lawyer Sam had run out onto the stoop with a shotgun in his hands, looking furious.  Jess quickly stepped back towards Dean, watching through narrowed eyes as the three men backed off.  Skinhead pointed at Dean.  “I’ll have you, Winchester,” he warned.  His eyes flicked to Lawyer Sam.  “Both of you!”

            “Take a hike, dick!” Jess snapped.  “Come near my family again, and I won’t warn you or hesitate!  I will empty that shotgun into your sorry asses!”

            Skinhead sneered at her, and Sam raised the shotgun. “Start walking,” Sam ordered. “Now!”

            Dean stayed protectively in front of the couple as Jess moved to join her husband.  Sam kept the shotgun leveled at the men until they were in the Camaro and driving out of sight.  Then he lowered it and looked anxiously at the other two.  “You alright?”

            “They had Dean on the ground when I came out, and that skinhead asshole was about to take him!” Jess yelled, scowling at Dean. “Dean, you need to be more careful!”

            “What I need to do?” Dean began, herding the couple back into the house.  “Is get the hell away from you and your family!  Sam, the paper said Blake and my brother vanished from protective custody?”

            Sam nodded.  “I called Adam, and he says they’re with him and someone named Bobby Singer?  I remember Castiel saying that name.  Another hunter?”

            Dean beamed.  “Yes!  Having him here sucks, but at the same time, it’s a big help.  No one knows more about hunting monsters than Bobby!”

            “Well, apparently he’s expanding his resume now, because he’s kidnapped Maroon 5, Adam’s band.”

            Dean blinked.  “Ok, I have no idea what’s going on now.”

            “Me either.  Adam says he’ll explain everything when we get there, but I know where we’re going.”

            Dean nodded.  “Ok, great!  Give me the address, I’ll find a ride, and...”

            “Sam’s coming with you,” Jess insisted as Sam opened his mouth to protest.  “He’s already involved as their lawyer and he needs to be there.  Besides, someone clearly needs to keep an eye on you, Dean! And do not try to argue with me, Samuel William Winchester!  The kids are waiting in the panic room, we’re already packed, and the security company has the police on their way in case those assholes come back.  You need to take Dean and be gone before they get here!”

            “And leave you to deal with the cops by yourself?” Sam asked.  “You’re going to have to go to the station and make a statement, and...”

            She rolled her eyes.  “Good thing I’m a lawyer, right?  Besides, we have a plan for something like this, and we’re acting on it!”

            Sam nodded, smiling lovingly at his wife. “You’re right, of course.  Just be careful!”

            She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.  “We’ll be fine.  Now, you two need...”

            There was a knock at the door and Dean whirled, weapons at the ready.

            “It’s the neighbor,” Sam explained quietly, pushing Dean’s arms down and moving to answer the door.

            The neighbor was an overweight elderly woman. She had a baseball bat clutched in her hands.  “I saw the whole thing!  Sam Winchester, is that your _brother_ I saw?  It was! There he is, right behind you! Dean, you’re dead!  I was at your funeral!  What in tarnation...?”

            Jess pulled the woman inside, hurriedly hinting something about Dean being deep undercover for a mysterious government agency. She told enough to make the story believable, but not nearly enough to do a lot of fact checking.  It was way too well thought out to have been spur-of-the-moment.  Meanwhile, Sam had run to the bedroom and come back pulling a suitcase.  “Dean, we are leaving, now!” he called.  “I’ll grab you a phone on the drive.”

            Dean shook his head.  “I can’t let you do this, Sam!  Now you see how dangerous this is?!”

            Sam raised a hand.  “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing,” he declared.  “Edmund Burke said that.  I learned it in college, and I’ve lived by it ever since.  Jess and I both believe very strongly in that philosophy, and we’ve taught our children to do the same.”  He gave Dean a reassuring smile.  “Dean, this isn’t the first time we’ve had someone come to the house, alright? Between criminals from my job and corporate thugs from hers, well, there’s a reason we have the gun, the panic room, and our contingency plans, which include these suitcases!  Now you and I are going together to meet everyone with Adam, and that’s the end of it.  Ok?”

            Dean raised his hands in surrender.  “Alright, Sam, I’m going!  One thing I gotta say, though.”

            Sam cocked an eyebrow.  “What’s that?”

            Dean gave him a goofy grin.  “Dude, your wife is so hot!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said the kids sleeping with Dean was “adorbs,” and he hates that word. Admits he almost started crying over what Deana said. Liked the way Jess basically bossed both boys around, and REALLY liked her kicking ass! Laughed very hard about Dean almost shooting the old lady, and laughed even harder at Dean’s expression and what he said.


	18. Orders From the Motherhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ketch must explain his actions when an Overseer is sent from the London Motherhouse for an audit

            Arthur Ketch absolutely detested being micromanaged, but he loathed Donald Connelly.

            Connelly was a ginger prat who had managed to ingratiate himself with the Powers That Be at the Motherhouse in London by virtue of being a complete sycophant. He told their superiors in the Men of Letters exactly what they wanted to hear.  His only question when being asked to jump was “How high?”  He flattered those above him and sneered down his long hawk-like nose at those below him.  Ketch’s considered opinion was that if it weren’t for his family’s influence and his habit of ingratiating himself with his superiors by being a yes man, the man would have long ago been expelled from the Men of Letters for being utterly useless.  He also must spend a king’s ransom on chap stick.  It was the only way someone who kissed half as much ass as Connelly could even have any lips left.

            Just Ketch’s luck to have this git sent out from London to supervise him. An Overseer?  How absurd!  Ketch was all too aware that the pompous title was nothing more than a front for a babysitter.  That was something Ketch most certainly was not in need of!

            “It’s like I explained in my very detailed report to the Motherhouse,” Ketch explained with forced patience.  “Did you read it?”

            Connelly hummed.  “Why don’t you give me the highlights?”

            That meant no.  Of course not.  Frankly, it was a wonder to Ketch that Connelly was even literate.  “I am dealing with a rogue angel from another dimension,” Ketch explained calmly.  “As such, he has no ties, no connections to anything on Heaven or Earth.  He’s quite simply the most dangerous thing we’ve ever hunted!”

            “Oh really?”  Connelly sipped at his tea, gazing out the window as though completely uninterested in anything Ketch had to say.  “I do believe that’s what I said about that leviathan that forced its way into our world after that witch mucked up a spell and tore open a hole in Purgatory?  You really believe you can compare the two?”

            Ketch forced himself to remain calm.  “The leviathan was deadly, yes, but the circumstances...”

            “We lost a total of twenty-three men and thirty-one civilians before we were finally able to get it contained,” Connelly reminded.  “Then it broke free of confinement and killed twelve more men before we were once again able to lock it down.  But the bounty you recommended for the leviathan was quite a bit lower than this one you’ve placed on this rogue angel!”

            “That’s because the leviathan, while absolutely more deadly than the angel, was actually less dangerous.”

            Connelly’s eyebrows shot up.  “You’re aware that leviathans are capable of killing angels, and that we have yet to devise a way to destroy them?”

            “Yes, Mr. Connelly, because I was personally involved in both the initial capture and the re-capture of that particular creature.”  _Unlike you,_ he implied, leaving the hanging silence after his statement to get that point across.  _Audit that, you prat!_

            The ginger never changed expression.  “This goes back to the purpose of this audit.  The Motherhouse is very interested to know your rationale for this bounty.”

            “As I explained in my highly-detailed report that you, dear Overseer, have clearly not read?  The angel is more dangerous because of two words – human allies.”  Ketch sipped at his own tea.  “Almost immediately upon his arrival, the angel attached himself to Adam Levine, a popular American music and television star.  His influence has since spread to include the members of Levine’s band, Maroon 5.”

            “That’s the group that you believe was abducted by Robert Singer?”  Connelly tutted.  “There’s a name I never thought I’d hear again!”

            “Imagine meeting him face to face!  But I digress.  The angel continued to expand his circle of influence, also drawing in a lawyer who is a legacy to the Men of Letters.”

            “Sam Winchester, yes.  And then the angel brought the version of Winchester from his own world through as well. But we’ll get to that.  I’m waiting to hear why this angel received a higher bounty than the leviathan.”

            “Because of that influence.”  Ketch leaned back and looked at Connelly.  “He’s surrounded himself with rich, influential entertainers and then added a legacy member of our own organization.  The angel seems to have developed a personality that encourages others to become fond of him and want to protect him.  The entire group of Maroon 5 and Winchester became very protective when I first wished to lock him up with an Enochian manacle.  In the end, I had to give the key to Winchester before they would allow it.”

            Again, the eyebrows went up.  “Allow it?”

            Ketch shrugged.  “You’re welcome to try your luck with a group of spoiled American musicians and their lawyer if you wish.  The group was actually starting to become hostile over the issue.”

            “And in the end, Levine got that manacle off of the angel anyway,” Connelly noted.  “Copied the key, perhaps?”

            Ketch paused, observing this extraordinary ignorance.  “Mr. Connelly, in your... position, I understand why you might suspect such a thing.  But both the manacle and the key are highly runed.  It’s not a matter of simply duplicating the key, but also the spells. Those manacles are designed so that they can’t simply be picked.  To be perfectly honest, I’ve still no idea of exactly how Levine got the angel free. He had to have stolen the key, as I don’t believe Winchester would take the risk of giving it back.  Or maybe...  I don’t know.  But my point remains.  These are the lengths that the angel is able to convince the humans around him to go. And now he’s gone and altered Levine in some way, perhaps permanently!  I’ve already added him to the bounty board.”

            “How was he altered, and how do you know that?” the Overseer pounced.

            “I don’t know the details yet of how he was altered,” Ketch confessed.  “But I know it was done.  Shelton all but told me that himself once I pressed him.”

            “And then I heard he laid you right out,” Connelly commented.

            Ketch finished his tea to hide his growing irritation.  “I underestimated Shelton.  I won’t do so again.  But I hope I’ve answered your question regarding the angel’s bounty.  The leviathan was obviously dangerous, tearing through everything in its path.  But that’s precisely why it couldn’t hide!  The angel is worse, because he’s able to hide in plain sight and convince others to protect him.  Now that he’s altered Levine, the risk is even greater.  Every moment the angel is running about, there’s a chance he could alter more humans.  He could be creating his own bloody army for all we know!  And that is what I explained in my report to the Motherhouse.”

            “I see.”  Connelly set his empty teacup down and gave Ketch a cool gaze.  “Let’s talk about the others, then.  You’ve explained your rationale for setting such a high bounty on Adam Levine.  But Dean Winchester is your lowest bounty, and even his is higher than usual!  And the monster version of Sam Winchester is specifically for a live capture?”

            “The angel specifically brought those men through,” Ketch explained. “And he sought out Sam Winchester in this universe in order to communicate with them.  But the angel didn’t abandon the lawyer once his own version was here.  We thought at first that Dean Winchester was holding the lawyer hostage, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.  According to his hospital records, Dean Winchester was somehow injured when he crossed over into our universe and in need of medical attention.  It seems the lawyer Winchester actually was willingly protecting him.”

            “And despite being injured, Dean Winchester managed to incapacitate your hunter and escape with the lawyer during his first capture attempt?”

            Ketch paused.  “Yes.”

            “And now Shelton and the monster Sam Winchester have managed to incapacitate you, and escape from a home surrounded by reporters and filled with law enforcement officers that were supposed to be under your control?”

            Ketch breathed through his nose.  “That is correct.”

            “It seems, Mr. Ketch, that captures and containments you are responsible for lately have developed an alarming habit of miraculous escapes.”  The side of Connelly’s face twitched into a half smile. “You were also responsible for the containment of the leviathan when it very nearly escaped, were you not?”

            “I do not appreciate what you’re insinuating!” Ketch snapped, finally displaying a flash of temper.

            Naturally, that was precisely what the ginger bastard wanted.  Connelly leaned back, looking smug.  “You can perhaps see the concern of our superiors at the Motherhouse?”

            “The concern is unwarranted,” Ketch declared.  “As I said, I underestimated Shelton and won’t do so again.  And God alone knows what sort of supernatural devices or spells the monster version of Sam Winchester might have brought with him that let him escape from that bloody ranch!  But I assure you, we’ll find him, and I will personally deal with Shelton. But meanwhile, I am running several hunts simultaneously, all related to the angel.  In fact...”

            Ketch was interrupted by his assistant knocking timidly on the door and then peeking in.  “Mr. Ketch? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

            “Not now, Charles!” Ketch spat.  “As I was saying, as we speak, I am currently having Dean Winchester brought in.  The lawyer...”

            “Mr. Ketch!” Charles interrupted, making Ketch’s hackles rise.  “It’s really important!”

            “I said not now!”

            “But sir, it’s about...”

            Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Charles, get in here, close the sodding door, and sit down!  If you’re going to continue to interrupt this meeting, you may as well attend it.”

            Charles visibly swallowed.  He closed the door and slunk in, taking a seat against the wall.  “Mr. Ketch, sir, if I could have just a moment of your time?”

            Ketch held up a finger for silence.  “As I was saying!  My hunter operatives are currently in the process of capturing Dean Winchester. They’ve been advised that the lawyer will likely protest.  My orders, should he attempt to interfere, are to take the lawyer into custody as well.”

            “Out of the question!” Connelly snapped.  “See, this is precisely the problem, Ketch, and perfectly illustrates the need for this audit!  The rules for the taking of civilian prisoners are very clear.  Unless the lawyer Sam Winchester physically and without provocation attacks your men, we cannot take any measures against him. And the only way we could justify taking him into custody would be if we can demonstrate a clear, lasting, measurable change due to supernatural influence.  I’d be happy to supply you with a copy of the rules from the Motherhouse, if you need a refresher?”

            Ketch clenched his jaw.  “There’s no need.”

            Charles cleared his throat.  “Mr. Ketch...”

            “Charles, do shut up?!”

            “Oh no, by all means, let’s hear what your assistant has to say!” Connelly smiled at Charles in a way that made Ketch want to punch him in the face.  “Charles, was it?  Well, Charles, what is it that’s so important?”

            Charles seemed to wilt.  “Um, Mr. Ketch, if I could just speak to you privately?”

            “Oh, what is it, Charles?!” Ketch yelled.

            “Dean Winchester escaped!” Charles blurted.

            Silence.  Ketch stared at his assistant as if the man had just sprouted a second head.  “I-I’m sorry, you said what?!”

            “Dean Winchester, sir.  Davis took a couple of contractors and waited for him outside the lawyer’s house.  They did capture him, but before they could secure him, well, apparently Winchester’s wife, um, attacked them?”

            Silence.

            Charles appeared to be trying to somehow sink into his chair.  “Then Sam Winchester came out with a weapon and drove off our operatives.  And then the lawyer left with our monster, and when Davis and his men attempted to follow, well, um, apparently there was a group of elderly women, some neighbors I guess, and, um, they, well, they blocked the road.”

            Silence.  The slight humming of the overhead lights seemed unnaturally loud.

            Charles’s voice now was barely a whisper.  “According to Davis, when he got out of the car and demanded they clear the street, the women actually attacked him.”

            “They drew weapons?” Connelly asked.

            “Um, no, although one did have a ball bat, but she didn’t use it.  It was, well, their purses, sir.  Davis reports they were yelling at him to ‘Leave that nice Mr. Winchester alone’ and slapping at him with their purses.  He finally had to get back in his car and go back around the block, and by the time he got back onto the main road, the Winchesters were gone.”  He paused, looking at Ketch.  “Davis also reports that he went back to Winchester’s home, but the wife had taken the kids and gone while the old women distracted Davis.  He has no idea where any of them are right now, sir.  Sorry, sir.”

            Ketch lowered his head to the desk.

            No one spoke for a long moment.

            “I say, Ketch, do you suppose that’s the answer to your other mysterious disappearances?” Connelly called at last.  “Do you think perhaps the angel is actually summoning groups of elderly birds armed with purses to smuggle the monsters and their co-conspirators out? Shall we issue warnings to your hunters to beware of geriatric lynch mobs?  I can’t help but wonder if they’ve developed their own uniform, perhaps dressing gowns and hair curlers?”

            “Oh, I do hope you’re enjoying yourself!” Ketch spat, sitting up to glare at the Overseer.

            Connelly was laughing openly now.  “I assure you, I am!”

            Ketch pounded a fist on his desk, making Charles jump and nearly fall out of his seat.  “That does it!  I want a bounty on the lawyer, live capture only, naturally.  He’s obviously...”

            “You will do no such thing!” Connelly ordered.  “I will make certain that a fresh new copy of the rules and regulations makes its way to your desk, Ketch!  Unless and until you can demonstrate that the lawyer version of Sam Winchester has been permanently and measurably altered by contact with the supernatural, you’ll not lay a finger on him!  And don’t think you’ll get by with something so mundane as the angel healing a bloody paper cut, either, Ketch!  Unless I can see real, tangible proof...”

            “That bastard just pulled a weapon on our men!” Ketch countered.  “Even according to your precious rules, he’s proven himself a threat!”

            “Rot!” Connelly spat back.  “The rules clearly state that an attack must be _unprovoked!_   And your incompetent men went after that monster right on his bloody doorstep!  Mr. and Mrs. Winchester had every right to defend themselves, their home, and their family.  If your operative had done his job properly and taken the monster Winchester at the motel as he should have done, it would have been different, but even so!  Unless and until our version of Sam Winchester, without provocation, knowingly and intentionally acts in a manner to either cause or threaten to cause serious bodily harm?  _You’ll not touch him!”_

            Ketch pounded his fist again, and Charles jumped again.  Ketch breathed hard through his nose for a bit.  “I’ll have those monsters, and I’ll have that angel,” he vowed.  “Mark my words!”

            “Only if you do it by.  The. Book!”  The Overseer enunciated the words, leaning forward to glare into Ketch’s eyes.  “You’re a loose cannon, Ketch!  You’ve had free reign for too long...”

            “And I have the highest kill or capture numbers of any hunter we’ve got!”

            “And you think too much like a hunter, and not enough like a scholar!” Connelly sat back, folding his arms over his chest.  “You forget, we are the heroes here, the last defense of humanity against monsters!  Do please try to act like it?”  He smiled.  “I’m here to make absolutely certain you do!”

            Ketch clenched his jaw to force himself to keep quiet.  His job, it seemed, had just gotten that much harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed very very hard at Ketch trying to explain himself. Loved the mob of old women. Was cheering for Charles to tell Connelly what happened with Dean. Says Connelly is now his new best friend. Mr. Fun’s reaction, facial expressions, and assorted gestures were better than anything else in this chapter!


	19. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Lawyer Sam finally join up with the others at Bobby's trailer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Nutcracker, for the incredible manips! You're amazing as always!
> 
> Song here is "Lips On You"  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVn9Kg6dZAw
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry I haven't been around. I went to the Supernatural convention yesterday and my vacation starts today, then we just had a family emergency. But I should get another chapter up soon. Once again I'll be sitting around in a hospital with nothing else to do just like I did at the start of last week. This is starting to become habit. But I did get to the Supernatural convention, and met Misha and Mark Pelligrino/Lucifer! I also got to see Ruth/Rowena, and know for a fact I can never write that character again because now when I think of her I think of that adorable, funny, tiny, foul-mouthed actress. I figured that would happen with Misha, that after meeting him, the actor would be come too "real" to write the character, and it absolutely did, but I didn't expect it with Rowena. Lucifer I fortunately didn't include because holy SHIT what a sweetheart. But while I have fortunately already finished this story and will post it, this is certainly the last time I will ever do another "Supernatural" crossover. Meanwhile, here's a nice long chapter for you. Enjoy!
> 
> BTW, my pictures are on my Twitter and also here:  
> https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/post/174744764092/misha-and-the-beans-up-top-i-was-so-nervous-that  
> https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/post/174744626977/my-autographs-from-the-supernatural-convention

            Even though it wasn’t his Baby and Lawyer Sam owned her and had every right to drive her, Dean still instinctively got into the driver’s seat of the Impala. He smiled when he discovered Baby’s keys matched Honey’s locks perfectly.  But for his part, Sam was quiet.  For the first hour or so, they listened to music without saying a word.  As much as Dean hated to admit it, and vowed to never say it aloud, the iPod had a really nice sound.  Lawyer Sam had loaded up all of his brother’s favorite songs into a play list called “Dean’s Stuff.”  It was playing as they drove, and it sounded fantastic.  Other Dean had great taste.  Dean would actually miss the stupid fancy-ass iPod when they went back. And Sammy would never know. 

            But it was Lawyer Sam that Dean was concerned with now.  The lawyer wasn’t his brother, and of course Dean knew that. But at the same time, he was. Dean couldn’t deny he felt something for him, some kind of bond that drew the two of them together.  It was strange.  Once, the angels had sent him forward in time to give him a look at what could happen if Dean continued to reject Michael.  Dean had been just as drawn as ever towards Future Cass, but he hadn’t felt any sort of link or draw at all towards the future version of himself he’d met.  Then again, that vision had been false, designed to manipulate Dean into agreeing to be Michael’s vessel.  Lawyer Sam was different.  He absolutely felt something for Sam.  Maybe it was because he understood Sam so well now, after their long-overdue talk, or because he was so much like Sammy.  But Dean understood now exactly why it was that both Sam and Blake had started talking to the alternate universe counterparts of the people they loved as if they were the originals.  In Dean’s heart, he knew he was already thinking of Lawyer Sam as his brother, right along with Sammy.  And Sam, he knew, still had something on his mind.

            Alright.  Dean was officially over the silence thing.  It was time to get Sam to talk.

            At first, the lawyer had been cautious, almost tentative.  But as they drove, Dean kept encouraging him to open up, and eventually, Sam did.  “I just cannot believe how cool you are with this whole thing, Dean!” Sam marveled. “What you told me, about everything you and your brother did, how much you sacrificed for each other?  I mean, you went to Hell for him, and he took on Lucifer for you, and round and round!  You guys saved the world how many times, and some idiot lawyer from another universe just up and kidnaps you?!  I can’t imagine what your brother must think of me!”

            Dean chuckled.  “I understand why you took me, Sam.  If anything, the fact that you did it tells me for sure exactly who you are!  Because my Sammy would have done the same, and I’d have done the same if I was you!  If I needed any further proof of who you really are?  Well, there it is.  I’m not upset.  Well, I’m upset that you thought you had to lie to me and kidnap me, definitely!” Dean corrected.  “You don’t ever just take me away like that again!  But if you’d just been honest with me from the start about who you were, and you told me about your Dean?  I would have gone with you, Sam!”  He smiled. “Honestly, you should give some serious thought to spending some time with Sammy.  I don’t want to tell you what to do so far as Jess goes, dude, that’s your marriage.  I don’t even know how Sammy will react to finding out she’s alive in this world! But you two, you and my brother? You’ve got a chance no one ever gets to have.  You can each get a glimpse of what your lives would have been like with just a few minor changes!  That’s not something you should pass up, buddy.”

            “My own little slice of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life,’ huh?” Sam mused.

            “Might give you a whole new appreciation for what you’ve got,” Dean advised.  “Although, I gotta warn you, you’re an asshole in my reality, too.”

            Sam laughed.  “Jerk!”

            “Bitch!”  Dean reached over and playfully punched Sam’s arm.  Sam’s smile was like the sun. 

            After that, Sam chatted non-stop.  Dean happily heard all about the children, the day to day of Sam’s life, even Sam’s problems with his marriage. 

            “You made at least a few inroads on that front,” Dean noted.  “Her lipstick looks absolutely fabulous on you!”

            Sam grimaced and wiped at his mouth.  “Shut up!  But yeah. That was nice.  It’s been a long time, too long, since we’ve been affectionate towards each other.  So last night?”  The lawyer got a goofy grin on his face.  “Yeah. I needed that for sure!”

            “You’re both still wearing your wedding rings,” Dean noted.

            Sam smiled down at the gold band.  “I never take it off.  I don’t know if I could have taken it off, even if we ended up divorcing.  Jess, she means so much to me, Dean!  I never stopped loving her.  I can’t imagine my life without her.”

            “You don’t have to,” Dean said quietly.  “You’re about to see exactly what that’s like.”

            The lawyer went quiet then.  He remained silent and thoughtful until they checked into their motel room for the night. Then he immediately got on his phone, going outside into the parking lot for some privacy to talk.  Dean let him alone, assuming he was talking to Jess. But when Sam came back in and wordlessly offered Dean the phone, Dean was stunned to hear his brother’s voice. “Dean?” Sammy asked.  “He told me what he did to you!  Are you alright?  Tell me the truth!”

            “I’m fine, Sammy!”  Dean eyed the lawyer, saw him step outside yet again so Dean could talk to his brother in private.  “And yeah. He tricked me, kept me hidden away. I didn’t even know you were here, but it’s over now.  We’re coming to join you, should be there tomorrow.”

            “Dean, how could you let him do that to you?!  I do not understand why you didn’t beat the shit out of that guy!”

            “Because he’s you,” Dean pointed out.  “You really going to try to tell me you’re sure you wouldn’t have done the same thing in his position?”

            He expected his brother to argue, but Sammy only sighed.  “He didn’t argue or try to defend himself at all, Dean.  He let me scream at him and just kept agreeing with everything I said, and...  Look, I’m still pissed off, ok?  But I guess I get it.”

            “Yeah,” Dean agreed.  “I know what you mean.”

            “So you guys are coming out here?” Sammy continued, obviously changing the subject.  “I don’t know where the hell we’re going to put two more people,” he complained.  “It’s already crowded as hell in this trailer.  But there is one nice advantage.  Hear that?”

            Dean had noticed the music, a male singer and gentle accompaniment in the background.  The music was in a minor key and had an odd, almost eerie sound to it.  “You got a good sound system?”

            “The best – live entertainment!  That’s Maroon 5, Dean!  Adam brought them their instruments, and they’ve been playing, and they sound fantastic! These guys are seriously talented!”

            Now Dean paid more attention.  The singer, Adam, Dean imagined, sounded much like he did in the country songs Dean had overheard Bobby listening to.  But somehow, this strange new style seemed to fit him better.  Adam’s voice sounded almost ethereal, and when the band joined in on the chorus, singing back-up, the sound gave Dean a slight chill.  “Ok, that is pretty awesome, but aren’t they popular?  Is it a good idea to let them do that?”

            “It’s a risk, but if anyone asks, they’re going to say they’re a cover band,” Sammy explained.  “They’re keeping the volume down.  So far, so good!  Adam’s been working them, keeping them busy when Bobby’s not having them run errands. And this one guy, Sam Farrar? He’s smart as hell, and seriously good with computer stuff!  They got him a laptop on one of my fake credit cards yesterday, and he’s been showing me what he and Lawyer Sam have been up to.  So, surprise surprise, it’s back to research for me!  Farrar’s cool, though, and whatever we can do to keep these guys busy.  I guess they weren’t doing so well, being trapped out here away from their families.” He hesitated.  “Speaking of families, L-Lawyer Sam and I, we’ve got a lot to talk about.  Dean, Jess...?”

            “I met her.  She’s a badass, Sammy!  Beat the shit out of those guys trying to collect that bounty on me.  She always was out of your league, but even combined, she’s out of both of your leagues!”

            Sammy gave a chuckle that sounded forced.  “Sam told me that, too.  I’m glad they helped you.  I gotta tell you, I’m having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around all of this.  B-but it’s good to hear your voice, Dean.”

            “You too, little brother.”  Dean paused. “Cass around?  Great to talk to you, but I really want to hear his voice about now.”

            The pause over the phone raised every alarm Dean had.  “Dean, a lot has happened.  And I can’t really tell you about it over the phone.”

            That didn’t make things any better.  “Why?  Because I’ll flip out?!”

            “No, because we’re both on pre-paid cell phones and I’m almost out of minutes!  Just get here, alright?  Adam can tell you everything.”

            “Oh.”  That made sense.  But then again, it didn’t.  Dean frowned. “What the hell does he have to do with my angel?”

            “You’ll find out tomorrow.  Put Sam back on, would you?”

            Annoyed, Dean did as he was asked.  The lawyer took the phone, listened, said alright, and then hung up. Dean stared at him.  “You got any idea what’s going on?”

            “A little, yes.”

            Dean made hurry up gestures.  “Hit me!”

            The lawyer carded his hair back and sighed deeply.  “Right now, we need to get some rest.  We still have some driving to do tomorrow, and it’s going to be a long day.  Bottom line, Castiel is fine, and tomorrow Adam can take you to him.”

            “Adam can...  Why would anyone have to take me to Cass?  Why isn’t he with the others?  Dammit, Sam, what the fuck is wrong with my angel?!”

            Sam looked him in the eye, and Dean immediately quieted.  “Dean?” Sam began.  “All I know is that Castiel did something really, really drastic to hide himself. It involves Adam, it’s serious, and Castiel’s hiding out somewhere because he’s wanted by the law and everyone else.  Adam says he’ll explain it all tomorrow and you can go see him.  That’s all I know.”

            Well, that told Dean next to nothing.  He managed to sleep somehow for at least a few hours, but the night seemed to crawl by.  In the morning, he couldn’t get on the road fast enough.

            Before long, he was parking next to a couple of surprisingly nice cars outside of a rickety old trailer.  Now there were three cars that didn’t look like they belonged here.  Dean took care to lock all the doors.  Then he went in, leaving Sam on the phone, letting Jess know they’d arrived.

            As soon as Dean was inside the door, Sammy glomped him.  “Dean!  I was so worried!  Are you alright?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine.  Sorry, Sammy,” Dean replied, patting his brother’s back.  “Sorry I was gone so long.  Lawyer Sam and I had some important things to take care of.”

            “Yeah, I’m sure.”  Sammy’s smile had faded as he turned to Lawyer Sam, who had just come inside and pulled the door closed behind himself.

            Dean watched along with everyone else in the trailer as Lawyer Sam finally met Hunter Sam.  The two were absolutely identical.  Both were even wearing clothes Dean had seen on the other.  They styled their hair slightly differently, but if they ever decided to change that and dress alike, no one would be able to tell them apart. As it was, Dean was having some trouble.

            Sammy extended a hand to his other self.  “Sam Winchester,” he announced.

            “Same,” Lawyer Sam declared.  Then he grabbed Sammy’s outstretched hand and pulled the startled hunter in for a hug.

            Sammy’s eyes went wide, and then softened.  He embraced his alternate self.  “I’m sorry to hear about Dean,” he offered.

            “I’m sorry to hear about Jess,” the lawyer replied.  He patted a suddenly somber Sammy on the back and pulled back. “We’ll talk when we have time, alright?”

            Sammy smiled.  “Sure! I’d like that.”

            Dean breathed a sigh of relief.  The two versions of Sammy would do just fine together.  But now he frowned as he glanced around the room.  The trailer was every bit as crowded as Sammy had indicated, with Bobby coming towards Dean and a group of strange men, Maroon 5, he imagined, watching from the other room.  But there was no sign of Blake or Adam, and the one person he’d been most longing to see was nowhere to be found.

            “Cass is fine, Dean.”  Bobby’s voice was gentle as he pulled Dean into a tight embrace.  “Adam’s been waiting to talk to you, though, and should be here any second.  Now listen, I don’t want you flipping out on him and flying off the handle…”

            “Why would I do either of those things?” Dean demanded.  “What is no one telling me about my angel?!”

            “Dean?”

            Dean whirled around and there was Adam Levine, standing next to Blake.  The two singers hadn’t been there before.  He would have noticed for sure, just because of what Levine was wearing!  Dean’s eyes lingered on Cass’s trench coat.  Then they moved back up to look hard at Levine.

            “Hey, Dean.”  Blake was moving up to hug Dean now.  “Meet my husband, Adam.  Those guys back there are Maroon 5, his band.  And you need to take a deep breath and calm down, because there’s a hell of a lot going on that we gotta fill you in on.”

****

            Sometime later, Dean understood a lot more about what had happened with his angel.  And he was furious.  “Why is it,” he wanted to know, “that even when he doesn’t do anything intentionally against them, the hosts of Heaven always decide that they want to do away with my angel?!  Why can’t they just leave him the fuck alone?!”

            “To be fair, they’re just trying to protect one of their own,” James pointed out. “I don’t agree with it, but I get it.”

            “He’s right, Dean,” Bobby added when Dean bristled.  “If their positions were reversed and it was Cass who was fading away, wouldn’t you go gunning for Cassiel?”

            “Why is it that you shorten our angel’s name?” PJ wanted to know.  “It seems disrespectful.”

            Dean blinked.  “Excuse me?”

            “Dude may be your boyfriend, but he’s an angel,” Mickey agreed.  “Is he really cool with you shortening his name like that?  I’m with PJ, I think our angel deserves…”

            “Where the hell do you get off with this ‘our angel’ shit?!” Dean yelled.

            “He loves you, but he did come to all of us, Dean,” Adam pointed out.  “And we all adore the guy, ok?  We’ve been through a lot of shit together!”

            “Yeah, you wanna compare notes?” Dean challenged.  “He’s not your angel!  You don’t fucking own him!”

            “It’s not a term of ownership, it’s fondness,” Lawyer Sam defended. 

            Sammy, Dean noticed, had yet to leave the lawyer’s side and appeared to be agreeing with everyone else.  In fact, they were both looking at Dean now like he was the one in the wrong.  “Sammy, do you believe this shit?!” Dean asked, exasperated.

            “Dean, they’re not trying to claim him,” Sammy replied.  “And you’re seriously starting to be a dick about it.”

            Lawyer Sam nodded.  “Castiel’s a great guy and we all care very deeply for him.  Plus, we’ve all been benefitting from his power.  The way he can calm with a touch…?”

            “Ok, first of all, that isn’t Cass, alright?” Dean corrected.  “It’s gotta be something he picked up from Cassiel. Second, you seriously want to sit there and question my nickname for my angel – _my_ angel! – when you’re all sitting here talking about how you have some kind of claim over him because you’re fond of him?!”  He glanced over at the two versions of his brother and groaned loudly.  “Oh, come on! Bad enough I gotta deal with Sam Squared, now I’m getting a double dose of the bitch face?!”

            “I’d say you earned it,” Lawyer Sam noted.

            “He usually does.  Adam, would you please take Dean to his angel?” Sammy called pleasantly.  “He’s back to being a complete prick and that’s not going to change until he gets to see Cass.  Gentlemen, I apologize for my brother.  Every time he’s ever lost Cass, this, unfortunately, is what he is like.”

            “He’s not so bad generally,” Blake assured.  “I like the guy.”

            “Blake, you like pretty much every fucking body you’ve ever met!” Matt complained. “You even liked that asshole producer we all signed a petition to get fired!  I’m surprised you don’t like Arthur Ketch!  But none of us like that fucker anymore, not after what he pulled with Cass!”

            “Now you’re calling him Cass?”

            “You gotta admit, it’s easier to say than Castiel.”

            “You’re a dick.”

            “It is easier to say than Castiel.”

            “How would you like it if I shortened your name?”

            “How the hell would you shorten ‘Matt?’  But I do see your point.”

            “Dude, he runs with these guys all the time and that’s what they call him!”

            “Even his boyfriend’s calling him ‘Cass!’”

            “Doesn’t seem it upsets him one bit.”

            “If our angel isn’t upset about it, why should we be?”

            “Stop calling him your angel!” Dean yelled.

            “Touchy much?”

            “This guy’s a douche!”

            “Why’s Cass with him again?”

            “He is pretty good-looking.”

            “Guy’s as pretty as Adam!”

            “Pretty much all I see him having going for him right now.”

            Dean’s hackles were rising.  “How about I kick all of your asses for you?!”

            “Ooo, tough guy!”

            “Bring it, pretty boy!”

            “You think you can take us all on?”

            “Actually?” Blake called.  “He probably could.  These guys hunt monsters, and I’ve seen them fight!  All three of them can probably mop the floor with us!  So don’t piss them off, ok?”

            That silenced the band.  They all stared at Dean, who glowered back at them.

            “Adam?  The sooner the better!”  Sammy was giving Adam a pleading look.

            Adam had come forward and was reaching for Dean, but Dean quickly backed away.  “You’re not gonna zap me somewhere, are you?” he asked.  “No thanks!  Last time Cass zapped me somewhere, I didn’t poop for a week!”

            Adam and Blake both looked at Sammy, who shrugged.  “I didn’t want to say anything, and besides, we didn’t have any other way to get out past the cops!  But when you fly with angels, well, yeah.”

            Blake swore.

            “Well, we know your car keys fit my car, so if it’s not far, just drive out there,” Lawyer Sam offered.

            Dean pointed at him.  “I like this idea.  What are you guys going to do while I’m gone?”

            “We’ve been busy.”  It was Sam Farrar.  “Hunter Sam and I have been trying to hack into this hunter computer network!  Now Lawyer Sam’s back, our chances just improved.”

            Dean cocked an eyebrow.  “Sam’s Club hacking hunters?  This universe is just backwards!  Why the hell are we hacking hunters now?”

            “Ketch runs them here, and he’s up to something,” Bobby declared.  “I played a hunch and tried a couple user names and passwords that I’ve had in the past. Turns out I’m still in the computer system.  The boys still have some more work to do, but they’re getting in.”

            James was chuckling.  “Sam Squared, and Sam’s Club.  I like it!”

            “I’m good at naming things,” Dean declared.

            “No he’s not!” Bobby and Hunter Sam called in unison.

            Dean glared at them.

            “At any rate, we’re making progress,” Farrar explained.  “Slow progress, but it’s good.”

            “And meanwhile, we’re reaching out for some non-supernatural help, as well,” Jesse added.  “We’ve been contacting people, letting a few select people know that we’re not actually, you know, kidnapped?  Then we’re having them pull every string they can pull to get the charges dropped against Adam.  We need Lawyer Sam to figure out what to do for Cass, though.”  He paused.  “Ok, you’re right, that is easier to say than Castiel.”

            Dean lost interest.  “Alright, good luck.  Adam, would you please take me to my angel?”

            Adam wordlessly headed outside.

            A moment later, Dean was back on the road.  Adam directed him for a short period of time, sending him down a narrow gravel road.  Then he had Dean pull over into a small airfield, where Adam climbed out of the car without a word.

            Dean eagerly got out.  “Holy shit, this is practically walking distance, dude!  He’s been right here this whole time?”

            “No.”

            Dean eyed the singer.  “No? Cass isn’t here?  Please tell me we’re not going to have to take one of these planes, because this guy does not fly!”

            Adam shook his head.  “No, no plane, but...  This is the part where I tell you something that is going to make you very, very upset.”

            Dean stiffened.  “Adam? Where’s my angel?”

            Adam took a deep breath and appeared to brace.  “I don’t know.”

            Dean shook his head.  “Say again? I thought you said you don’t know.”

            “I did.”  Adam was suddenly fascinated by the toes of his motorcycle boots.

            Dean stared at him.  “You don’t know?  What do you mean you don’t know?!”

            “I mean exactly what I said, Dean!  I couldn’t do the runes in the ribs thing, but I could use my powers to give him, well, a tattoo.  That’s something I know,” Adam explained, indicating his body.  “So that’s what I did, I gave him a tattoo that hides him from angels.  So I can’t track him!  And that’s also why I have no idea where Castiel is, alright?”

            “What?  _What?!_ ”  Dean grabbed Adam by the arms and slammed him back against the side of the Impala.  “What the fuck, Levine?!  What’s going on?  Every single time I have asked, I have been told that Castiel is just fine!  But you don’t even know where he is?!”  He slammed the singer against the side of the car again.  “Where the hell is my angel, Adam?  _Where is he?!”_

            Adam looked cooly at him.  Then he calmly reached up, grabbed Dean’s arms, and lifted the furious hunter completely off of his feet.  “Keep your hands off of me, Dean,” he said quietly.  “I get that you’re upset, but you don’t get to manhandle me.”

            Dean managed to regain control when Adam set him down on his feet again.  Ok, Adam definitely had the strength of an angel now.  Dean sternly told himself that he needed to keep his cool.  But his heart was pounding.  “Adam, please!  I just want my angel, ok?  Where’s Cass?!”

            “I told you, I don’t know!  Last I saw him, he was buying a bus ticket.  I have no idea where he went after that!”  Adam had pulled off the trench coat and carefully folded it.  He dropped it into the passenger seat of the Impala, walked around it a bit, and leaned against the hood.  “Listen, Castiel’s in a lot of danger, ok?  And he’s in danger from Heaven and Earth!  He gave me his Grace to help him hide from the angels, and I’ll be honest with you, that really, really hurt him.  He was sure that they’d have a hell of a time finding him if he did it because he could blend in with every human on the planet.  But they’re still looking for him!”

            Dean also leaned against the Impala.  That was better.  He appreciated the familiar support.  “What about you, Adam?” he asked.  “Wouldn’t they be looking for you, too?”

            Adam shook his head.  “Castiel carved those ward things into my ribs just like he did yours before he gave me his Grace, so I’m hidden so long as I don’t use too much power.  But they’re still looking for me, either hoping I’ll lead them to him, or to kill me because I’m some kind of abomination.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Plus, we’ve got Ketch’s people and the FBI looking for us!  I needed to be mobile enough to get to you and try to help, which means I’m going to be seen.  And eventually, I’m going to be arrested again, or worse!”

            “Ok, you need to get to the point here, because I’m three seconds away from punching you!” Dean warned.

            “Fine!  Here’s the point: Castiel didn’t tell me where he was because we both knew that there was a chance the hosts of Heaven or some other supernatural group would find me. If anyone got their hands on me, I couldn’t be forced to tell what I didn’t know.  Castiel is hiding from everyone, including me, to protect us!”

            “That’s crazy!” Dean yelled.  “He’s out there all alone, and absolutely no one knows where he is?!  What if something happened to him?!”

            “If he got into trouble, he could still call me and tell me where he is so I could help.  But until and unless that happened, he didn’t want me to know where he was, and he didn’t want to know where I was!  It’s an arrangement we both agreed to, alright?”

            Dean didn’t like it, but he had no choice.  He breathed through his nose.  “Alright.  But if no one knows where he is, how the hell do I find him?”

            “Well, before we go into that?  Castiel told me you were good at shielding your mind.  So shield it now.  Because he told me that you’re the only one who would know how to find him if I gave you that coat.”

            Dean glanced through the window at the coat, frowning in confusion.  “I don’t understand.”

            “You’ve got to, Dean!”  Adam was exasperated.  “You’re the only one who can find him!  So if you want to see your angel again, you better figure it out!  He said to give you this and tell you that you needed to give it back to him.  And then he sent me away.  That’s all I know.”

            Dean shook his head.  “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here!  Help a guy out?”

            Adam took a step back and wrapped his arms around himself.  “I need to get back.  Good luck.”

            “Seriously?  You’re just going to…”

            There was an all too familiar rustle, and suddenly Dean was talking to empty space.  “Son of a _bitch!_   Now what?!”

            No answer but the passing breeze.

            Dean reached into the car and picked up the trench coat.  Alright.  Cass had apparently told Adam that Dean needed to give this coat back.  What did that mean?  How could he give it back if he didn’t know where Cass was?  It didn’t make any sense!  He held it close to his chest and thought.  The coat, he knew, was practically part of Castiel.  Jimmy Novak had been wearing it when Cass had taken him as his vessel.  The first time Dean had met the angel, he and Bobby had shot him full of holes and Dean had managed to stab him.  It had all torn holes in his body and his coat, without even slowing the angel down. But the next time Dean had seen Cass, the coat was intact and looking like new.  That pattern had repeated itself over and over, his angel healing his suit and the coat as easily as he could heal his human body.  No matter how torn, dirty, or even burned his clothes became, Cass could restore them all on little more than a whim.  In fact, Dean had seen his angel without his trench coat for any extended period of time only twice.

            Dean lovingly ran his fingers over the coat.  Cass had abandoned the coat once out of necessity, after Metatron had stolen his Grace and trapped him, powerless, in his human vessel.  Cass had been on his own with very little money. Forced to choose between cleaning his clothing and eating, Cass had stolen clean clothes at a laundry mat and abandoned his own.  It had been an awkward time, with Cass determined to survive on his own and working at a convenience store to try to support himself.  Once his powers had been restored, he’d also replaced his trench coat.  And the only other time Cass had been without it was after the incident with the leviathans. The coat had been all that was left of his angel when they’d broken free, tearing their way through his shattered body. Dean grimaced, still remembering too well how it was when he’d found the coat in the water, pulled it out.  He’d kept it with him until...

            Oh.

            _Oh!_

            Dean quickly jumped back into Honey, started her up, and got back on the road.   _I’m coming, angel,_ he thought, not caring that Cass couldn’t hear him now.  _I’m coming!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he knew Dean would be pissed about everyone calling Cass “our angel.” Liked Hunter Sam meeting Lawyer Sam. Groaned when Adam said he didn’t know where Cass was. Was nice that, briefly and except for Cass, the whole group was together. Almost wanted to see Dean try to punch Angel Adam, because that would have been funny! Thought the manips were awesome!


	20. Party At Bobby's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group discusses their plans for the future, and gets an unexpected visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some more artwork from Nutcracker!
> 
> We're driving across the country for our birthdays! I'll check in if and when we have internet, but I did manage to put together a few drafts before I left so there won't be too long of a delay in postings, in case anyone cares. Enjoy!

            Blake was worried about his husband.  Adam was putting on a good front, but no one knew his Rockstar better than Blake did.  He could see the strain in Adam’s hazel eyes.  Holding the power of an angel was taking its toll.  Adam insisted he could handle it.  But Blake wasn’t so sure.

            Then Bobby had pulled Blake aside, kindly updated him on the conversation he’d had with Adam, and that sealed it.

            “I think we should find Castiel and have him divide this thing up,” Blake had declared to Adam.  “Put half of it in me, so it’s not such a burden on you!”

            But Adam had shaken his head.  “Even if that was possible, which I kind of doubt?  Not everyone can be a vessel, Blake.  Castiel put this into me because he could and I was willing.  Now it’s my responsibility.”

            Even with his hair mussed from their earlier activities, Adam looked beautiful to Blake.  But Blake didn’t like the way Adam paced about as they talked, avoiding making eye contact with him.  He moved closer and pulled Adam into his arms, kissing him with a hint of desperation. And Adam responded as he always had, throwing his arms around the taller man’s neck to deepen their kiss until they finally parted slightly.  Blake felt Adam start to pull away and tightened his arm around him, sinking his other hand into Adam’s hair, holding him still and keeping their foreheads together. Now Adam couldn’t get away, at least not without using his angel strength.  Blake didn’t think Adam would go that far, but the knowledge that he could, that he had that superhuman strength in the first place, made Blake feel cold.  “What are you going to do?” Blake asked helplessly.

            “I’ve got two choices here, Blake,” Adam had told him.  “I can adapt and just burn off enough power now and then to take the edge off, or I can let it burn me up inside.  Right now, I’m adapting.  I know I can’t do it forever, but for now, I can handle it, Big Country!”

            “For how long?” Blake wanted to know.

            “As long as it takes,” was all Adam would say.  Then he was after Blake again.

            Blake was only human.  He was a man who was hopelessly, desperately in love with his husband.  Between that, the seemingly endless time he’d spent away, and the burden of his worry for Adam, Blake couldn’t keep his hands off of Adam when the smaller man initiated sex.  And the little shit knew it, of course.  The two of them were back in their L. A. home for some private time together.  Adam didn’t hesitate to take advantage of Blake’s weakness as a way to avoid talking about an uncomfortable subject.  And when Blake pressed Adam against the wall, Adam’s legs wrapped around his waist and Blake’s hands supporting his hips as he pumped into Adam, Blake simply couldn’t pursue the conversation.  All he could do was hold Adam tight, tell him over and over again how beautiful he was, how much Blake loved and had missed him, how Blake would do anything for him. He begged Adam not to leave him. And Adam clung to him, kissing him over and over, swearing that he would never leave Blake, that he loved him, that he was Blake’s and Blake’s alone.

            It wasn’t enough.  If he could hold Adam forever and give him everything he had, Blake knew it still wouldn’t be enough.  But it would do for now.  Because when he looked into those sweet hazel eyes, Blake could see the love there. “What did I do,” Blake wondered aloud, “to earn you?”

            “You let me in,” Adam said simply.  And somehow that said it all.

            Then it was time to go back.  Adam had taken them to L. A. after dropping off Hunter Sam at the trailer with Bobby and the band.  The two of them had spent the night there.  Blake was worried the house was being watched, and it was.  But Adam was careful, not turning on any lights and keeping watch while Blake slept.  It didn’t seem the bored cops watching the house were any wiser by the time Adam took Blake’s hand and whisked them both back to Bobby’s rickety trailer.

            Next thing Blake knew, he was being enthusiastically greeted by a delighted Bobby Singer and a surprisingly emotional Maroon 5.  That had touched Blake.  He’d known Adam’s band was fond of him, but he’d always thought of the six men as Adam’s friends rather than his own.  Of course that was stupid.  They’d played at his wedding and had been there supporting him and Adam every step of the way.  If that wasn’t a friend, what was?  Blake had hugged them all back, grateful and guilty that he and Adam had been so anxious for time together that he hadn’t even come in to say hello.  But what could he do?  He was only human, after all!

            Then, while they’d been out for a walk together and Blake had tried to approach the subject again, Farrar had texted them.  Lawyer Sam had come in with Dean.  Adam had gone off to reunite Dean with his angel and returned a short time later. Blake wiggled his eyebrows at his husband and got a wink in return.  He had no doubt that Adam had given Cass all sorts of advice and suggestions to try. Poor Dean had no idea what he was in for.  Blake had already made a bet with himself.  While Dean no doubt imagined himself as a top, Blake was certain Dean was a bottom and had every intention of teasing him mercilessly about it.  In fact, maybe he’d get M5 in on his bet? Then they’d all help pester Dean and Cass until they found out!  Dean had it coming.  For now, though, Blake was glad his friend would finally reunite with his angel.  It was about damned time.

            Now Blake sat in the corner of the trailer, with Adam draped over his lap. The smaller man was lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on his crossed arms and his eyes closed, facing out towards everyone else.  His wings were exposed, draped over his back.  They really were amazing.  To the eye, they appeared to be shadows given solid form.  Blake could see through them to Adam’s back and the floor as if they actually were just shadows.  Even when Blake put his fingers into them, he appeared to be touching nothing at all. And yet they were very obviously of substance.  Blake was busy gently drawing his fingers through the thick pinions, and Adam was practically purring.  His usually-hyper Rockstar was calm and completely relaxed, obviously enjoying the sensation.  This was a serendipitous find on Blake’s part, how much Adam enjoyed having his new appendages groomed.

            “You’re getting old, Adam,” Jesse noted.  “I figured you kept changing your hairstyle to hide the grey in your hair, but you can’t hide it in your wings!  Look at all those grey feathers!”

            “Yeah, for real,” PJ agreed.  “Castiel’s wings were solid black, but look at yours!”

            “You are going a little grey in the wings, Ad,” Blake said.  “I couldn’t really see it at night, but yeah, you’re kind of salt and pepper here, buddy!”

            “That’s nice,” Adam mumbled with his eyes closed.

            “Whoa!” Blake exclaimed, surprised.  “Did we just get away with calling you old, Adam?  No ‘fuck you,’ no finger, no protests?  Are you finally growing old gracefully?!”

            Blake’s fingers stroked through the feathers, and Adam gave a little sigh without opening his eyes.  “Fine, I’m old.  Don’t give a shit, so long as you keep doing that.”

            Jesse gasped dramatically.  “Someone call the Pope, we’ve got a miracle on our hands!”

            Bobby looked down at them, shook his head, and chuckled.  “Remind me to tell Dean to try that, next time Cass gets a bee in his bonnet over something.”

            “Apparently, it’s a great way to settle your angel down,” Blake announced. “Even the ones with ADHD!”

            “I can hear you, you know?” Adam called.  His voice sounded sleepy.

            “I can stop?” Blake offered.

            “Do I need to remind you that I am currently capable of doing severe violence, healing you, and then doing more severe violence?” Adam replied, his voice still calm and sleepy.

            “Touchy!”  Blake dug his fingers deep into the feathers, getting well into the downy layer beneath, and gently combed.  “You sure you want to do that?”

            “Aaaaaah!  Dammit, Big Country!” Adam moaned, shivering in pleasure.  “That’s cheating!”

            “You want to threaten my boy Blake with angel violence?” Bobby declared. “He gets to counter with angel wing stimulation.”

            “I hate you guys,” Adam mumbled.  He was so limp and relaxed that Blake suspected he was in danger of melting into a puddle.

            “Ok, this may sound weird,” PJ began, “but I seriously want to pet him now.”

            “Nothing weird about it!  Who wouldn’t want to play with an angel’s wings?”

            “I do!”

            “Me, too!”

            “Hey Blake, you think maybe we could have a turn?”

            “Yeah, I’ve known Adam a hell of a lot longer than you!”

            “I can be bribed?” Blake offered.

            That resulted in a flurry of offers.  Blake accepted the top two, and Jesse and Mickey triumphantly joined him, ignoring the grumbling of the others.  “Next time, gentlemen!” he called.  Adam barely stirred, not seeming to care who groomed his wings so long as someone did it.

            “If that helps keep you calm, Adam, then I strongly suggest they keep it up,” one Sam Squared, Blake thought it was the lawyer, said.  “Because we need to talk about what’s going to happen with your case.  Obviously, we’ve got grounds to dismiss your original arrest because you clearly did not murder Blake.  But the people who actually are dead right now, and your escape from prison?  Those are going to cause some trouble.”

            Adam opened his eyes and looked at the lawyer.  “Alright?” he asked.

            Lawyer Sam waved Hunter Sam over, and the hunter took a seat near him. “When we originally discussed this option, it was with the assumption that, as an angel, Castiel would be safe against the kind of threat you faced in prison, Adam,” the lawyer began.  “But that’s no longer the case.  And the problem is that he’s absolutely the number one suspect in both the deaths at the prison and those of the White Knights.”

            “Thanks to Ketch,” Bobby growled.  The old veteran was scowling fiercely.

            “And I’m still pissed about Merl Brandon!” Blake announced.  “That piece of shit!  Should have put a bullet in that bastard when I had the chance, back when he first tried to make me sign a restraining order against Adam and I realized just what a homophobic waste of oxygen he really was!”  Blake breathed hard through his nose, stroking Adam’s wings to try to calm himself.  Part of Blake, a rather significant part, wanted to find Brandon’s body and see if Adam could resurrect him, just so Blake could put him back in Hell himself.

            “Well, speaking strictly about your case, Adam?  This is good and bad,” the lawyer continued.  “It’s good because at worst, this makes you an accomplice, and at best, you’re only a passive observer, possibly even under duress. Given that you have no military training to speak of, no record, and no history of violence?  It shouldn’t be hard to make a case for the latter.”

            “And throw our angel under the bus?”  Adam was losing some of his limpness now.  He raised his head and frowned at Lawyer Sam.  “I can’t do that!”

            “You may not have a choice.”  To Blake’s surprise, it was Hunter Sam that spoke.  “Not only did Cass do exactly what he’s being accused of doing, but, assuming all goes well, he’s not going to be available to be arrested soon.  But Adam has to live here!  I hate to say this, but I think it’s worth thinking about letting Cass take the fall.”

            This was met with loud protests from Maroon 5.  Blake was frowning as well.  The idea of throwing an innocent man, especially one he felt as if he knew, under the bus like this made his stomach churn.  But at the same time, the practical side of Blake saw the truth in what was being said.

            Meanwhile, Adam was getting up, his wings vanishing, and glaring at Sam Squared. Blake quickly caught him around the middle, lifted him slightly, and pulled him back into his lap.  “Adam, stop,” he advised.  “No one’s happy about this shit, least of all me!  But what’s the alternative?”

            Adam squirmed, but fortunately didn’t use his strength.  “I can’t do it, Blake!  I can’t let Castiel take the fall like this!”

            “Well, tough.”  It was Bobby. The old hunter looked positively ancient as he leaned against the wall of the trailer.  “You may not have a choice, kid.  Once Dean gets back, let’s put it to him and see what he thinks, but I suspect Cass would tell you to do it.”  He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be lying if you said you had nothing to do with it all.  And you don’t actually have to say it was Cass!”

            “It would be better, personally, for you if you did say it was Cass,” Lawyer Sam sighed.  “But that will make it harder for me to defend him.  I’ve got an obvious conflict of interest here, because I’m representing you both!  Maybe Cass needs a different lawyer?”

            “No way!”  Adam clenched his fists.  His breathing was fast, and his body was trembling.  “You’re not leaving either one of us, Winchester!  And I’ll say I had nothing to do with any of it, but I’m not blaming anything on Castiel.  I’m not!”

            Blake tightened his arms around his distraught husband.  “Will Adam have to go back to jail?” he asked, glancing towards Lawyer Sam.

            “Unfortunately, yes, they’re still going to want to lock him up,” the lawyer confirmed, “but only for as long as it takes me to push his case.  And I intend to push it with all I’ve got!  If he keeps his head down until I can get the charges dismissed, then I can probably get by with him paying a fine and time served for the prison break if I play my cards right.  After that, I’ll do what I can for Castiel.”  The green eyes looked pleadingly at Adam. “Legally, it’s the best I can do for you.”

            “This is such bullshit!” Adam exclaimed.  “Everyone and his brother-in-law is out looking for our angel right now, and the cops just want to lock me back up again?  While locking me up won’t really be a problem now, what happens to Castiel?  What if they find him, huh?  He gave me his powers, which means he doesn’t have any!  And those pieces of shit in prison aren’t going to leave him alone, alright?  Even if he didn’t look the way he did, they’d be after him!  They’ll make him suffer because of what happened with me!”  He shook his head.  “If they come for him, I’m going to have to take steps and get him out, which means they’ll come after me again!  And when I give Castiel back his Grace and he goes home, then I’m back in prison and defenseless again!  So what’s the fucking difference, huh?!”

            “Adam, Sam’s only offering you the best advice he can for you as your lawyer,” Hunter Sam defended.  Blake had noticed how quick the hunter was to defend his counterpart and was glad to see it. “He doesn’t like the idea any more than anyone else, but as your lawyer, he has to advise you on what is best for you.”

            “Cass is my client, too,” Lawyer Sam sighed.  “And like I said, this whole situation represents a conflict of interest. But like Sam said, right now, I have one client in front of me, and I need to offer legal advice for that client. That needs to be independent of my advice for my other client.”  He combed his fingers through his hair, looking worn.  “Do you think maybe Castiel will come back with Dean?”

            “I doubt it,” Adam grumbled.  “Castiel’s pretty determined to hide out.  He wouldn’t even tell me where he was going to hide!”

            That got everyone’s attention.

            “Wait, you don’t even know?”

            “Our angel’s out there alone and no one knows where he is?”

            “Adam, are you out of your fucking mind?!”

            “What if something happens to him?!”

            “You can find him if he needs you, right?”

            “If Cass calls Adam, Adam should be able to home in on him!” Bobby yelled over the din.  “Everyone settle your asses down!  My boy knows what he’s doing, and he obviously felt this was for the best, or he wouldn’t have given Adam his Grace in the first place!  Now, when Dean gets back, if Cass is with him, fine.  Otherwise we’ll figure something out.”

            The band was a collection of sour looks and reluctant nods.  Once again, Blake marveled at the power Bobby Singer had established over them.

            Meanwhile, the grizzled old hunter was rubbing his chin, thinking.  “We do need to tell him this legal bullshit, though,” he mused.  “Lawyer Sam probably needs to meet with him, or at least have a phone conversation.”

            “I gave Dean a cell phone,” the lawyer announced.  “And don’t worry, it’s prepaid so no one should be able to trace it. I have the number for it if we want to call Dean?”

            Blake cleared his throat.  “I think maybe we should let those two alone for now,” he declared.  “I think they have a bit of catching up to do.”

            That brought a series of waggling eyebrows and knowing smiles around the room. Bobby blushed and cleared his throat. Hunter Sam was beaming, and Lawyer Sam was smiling as well.  Blake could feel a similar smile on his own face.  He tightened his arms around Adam’s slender waist, pulling him closer in his lap, and felt Adam’s hand go over his own.

            To Blake’s amusement, Matt was raising his hand, looking at Bobby. “Suggestion!  I don’t know about the rest of the guys, but I’m thinking that all of us crowded into one trailer is just asking for trouble, especially since a few of us happen to have famous faces and one of us is wanted by the law,” he began, glancing towards Adam.  “Now, Farrar needs to keep with the computers and I should stay to help Bobby. But seeing as how we have access to an angelic taxi, wouldn’t it be a good idea to start looking for a new place to stay?”

            “That’s a damned good idea,” Bobby declared.  “Leave Sam Farrar and Matt here, and Adam can take the rest of you wherever you need to go.”

            James raised his hand.  “Why’s Matt get to stay?”

            “Because he’s good at the grunt work, and he’s the calmest and most mature of any of you idjits.  And because I said so!”  Bobby’s voice broached no argument.

            Matt looked smug.  Someone muttered “teacher’s pet” and his smile only widened.

            Mickey’s hand went up.  “Um, does that mean Adam zapping us some more, like that Dean guy said?  I don’t want to be constipated for a week!”

            “Milk of magnesia, dude!”

            “Ex-Lax!”

            “Prunes set me free!”

            “My granny always swore by warm prune juice with a pat of butter melted into it.”

            “My granny said black coffee did the trick.”

            “Worse comes to worst, there’s always Hollywood-style colonic irrigation.”

            “Fuck no!”

            “No one’s putting anything up my ass, man!  That’s a one-way door, exit only!”

            “Are we seriously sitting here talking about shitting?”

            “I really don’t want to be bound up for a week.”

            “Yeah, that doesn’t sound like fun to me, either.”

            “Adam’s already zapped us.”

            “And I haven’t shit in days!”

            “Me either, but I thought I just needed more roughage.”

            “Why are we still talking about shitting?”

            “Have you shit recently?”

            “Um, no?”

            “Well, obviously, that means we have to talk about it!”

            “True.”

            “I still say no one is putting anything up my ass!”

            “You’ve got your head up your ass.”

            “I’m about to put my foot up your ass!  Blake, is this what these idjits do?” Bobby wanted to know.  “Balls!  It’s been days of this!  They’re worse than Sam and Dean were when they were teenagers!  I thought Adam might settle them down, but here he is, just as bad, joining right in!  Since I dragged ‘em all out here, they’ve been talking over each other about bullshit and driving me right up the wall!”

            “Meet Maroon 5,” Blake confirmed.  “And I ain’t never seen anyone have those morons under control like you do, Bobby!  They may be idjits, but you certainly know how to deal with ‘em.  I know a few producers and stage managers who would love to take lessons from you!  They’re even raising their hands to ask questions?”  He chuckled.  “Seems to me they like you, Bobby.”

            “Sure we do!”

            “You’re a cool old cat, Singer.”

            “Yeah, we don’t listen to just anyone.”

            “Hell, we don’t listen to anyone at all!”

            “That’s because producers are assholes and stage managers are pushy!”

            “Bobby’s pushy, too.”

            “And surly!”

            “Yeah, but he’s cool and he knows what he’s doing.”

            “He’s got this Yoda kind of vibe.”

            “The Force is strong with this one.”

            “Fucking nerd!”

            “Fuck you, it’s Star Wars!”

            “Yeah, Jesse, where do you get off?  You had a poster of Princess Leia in your bedroom when you were a kid!”

            There was a chorus of “Oooooh!”

            Jesse glared daggers at Adam.  “Rat fink!”

            “Can’t blame you, dude.”

            “She was hot!”

            “I’d hit that.”

            “I’d totally hit that.”

            “I may have spanked it to Slave Leia a time or two.”

            “TMI!”

            “I did it, too.”

            “Me too.”

            “Same.”

            “Guys, there’s an FBI agent coming towards the door.”

            Suddenly, every eye was on James.  As usual, he was seated by the window, looking out to observe the trailer park drama.  But now he was backing away from the window, looking to Bobby.

            Bobby swore.  “Everyone get back into the bedrooms!  Sam?”

            “I got it.”  The hunter started towards the door, but was stopped when Lawyer Sam grabbed his arm.

            “No, you don’t got it!” Lawyer Sam protested.  “What are you going to do?  Shoot an FBI agent?”

            “No, dude, I’m just going to be ready in case there’s trouble!”

            “If there’s trouble, I’ll handle it.  Legally!” the lawyer stressed.  “In fact, I’m the only one here who should even talk to this agent.  Go back with the others, you and Bobby both!  I got this.”

            “I’m with you,” Bobby growled. 

            “And I’m with you,” Matt declared.

            Bobby glowered at Matt, who stared back, determined.  Bobby rolled his eyes, shooed everyone else back and moved up to cover Lawyer Sam as someone knocked on the door.

            Blake had already dumped Adam over his shoulder, carried him into the rear bedroom and forced him into a closet, shutting the door and ignoring his hissing protests.  Now he himself was being pushed back by Adam’s band.  He shook his head, holding his position near the door, and directed the band to Adam’s closet.  Already, Jesse had positioned himself in front of the door, looking determined.

            Meanwhile, Lawyer Sam had apparently opened the door.  “FBI,” announced a gruff voice.  “I’m...”

            The sudden silence alarmed Blake more than anything else he could have heard short of gunshots.  Blake looked around, seeing his own concern mirrored on the faces of everyone else, and dared to peek out.

            Lawyer Sam was standing near the door, looking confused as he glanced between the faces of the man in the doorway and Bobby Singer, who had apparently stepped out to confront their visitor.  The visitor was an older African American man about Bobby’s age wearing an official-looking suit.  He was holding an FBI badge and staring at Bobby with his mouth gaping, looking completely stunned.  And Bobby was staring right back.  Blake couldn’t see the old veteran’s face, but from his posture and the way he seemed frozen in place, Bobby was just as stunned as the agent.

            It was the agent who found his voice again first.  “B-Bobby?” he gasped.  “Bobby Singer?  Fuck me, it’s really you!”

            “Rufus Turner!” Bobby exclaimed.

            “Rufus?!”  Hunter Sam pushed his way out without warning, dodging Blake as Blake grabbed for him to run into the room.  Then he too stopped and stood as if frozen.

            The agent, Rufus apparently, blinked in astonishment, looking from Lawyer Sam to Hunter Sam.  Then his eyes again returned to Bobby.  “You’re _dead!”_ he exclaimed.  “And there really are two Sam Winchesters?!  I can’t believe that bastard Ketch was actually right!”

            By now, Blake was becoming alarmed.  He instinctively pushed Adam, who had apparently zapped himself out of the closet, back behind himself, stepping out into the room.  “Bobby?” he called.  “Who is this guy?”

            “It’s Rufus Turner,” Bobby managed.  His eyes were still locked with the other man’s.  “My old hunting partner!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun liked Bobby laying down the law with M5. Says yes, they are idjits. Greatly approved of Blake's plan for Ketch. Forgot that James was still watching the trailer park drama. Realized as soon as he was described that it was Rufus. Thought it was funny that Blake tried to push angel Adam in the closet. Knew he’d just pop out, and laughed when he did. “How’d that work out for you, Blake?” Liked that Jesse was trying to defend Adam in the closet. Too bad he didn’t stay!


	21. Once Upon A Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus tells the group the real story behind Arthur Ketch and the Men of Letters

            Rufus was so surly he made Bobby look like Mr. Rogers.  But apparently, he had good reason to be.  “They can’t prove it, but the Men of Letters have suspected I’m behind a lot of monsters that got away from them,” he explained.  “So they keep me around on the rosters, but they also keep a close eye on me, and monitor damned near everything I do. They’ve been after my ass for about five years now, ever since Ketch made his move and took over from you. Other you.  Bobby Singer, the real one!”

            “I am real, you old bastard,” Bobby grumbled.  “You’re the one that’s dead in my world!”

            “If I don’t watch my ass, I’ll be dead in _my_ world, too!” Rufus snapped.  “Bobby, my Bobby, saw this coming.  He told us that we couldn’t trust Arthur Ketch, told us that fucker was already in too deep and knew way too much about way too many people.  But by the time the rest of us figured out he was right, it was too late.  The Men of Letters, they had everyone by the short curlies!  If they didn’t have dirt on you, they bribed you.  If they couldn’t bribe you, they threatened you. And if they couldn’t threaten you, well, then you disappeared.  And that’s what happened to Bobby Singer.  Bobby was the only real resistance to the Men of Letters and Ketch, the only one who dared to stand up to them despite all they could do.  And that’s why Bobby ended up dead on the floor in his own home, shot full of holes.”  He nodded as shouts rang out around the room and Bobby stared at him in shock.  “The cops called it a botched robbery.  Bullshit! We all knew the Men of Letters had a lot of cops in their pockets.  And we all knew what it really was.  A message! Every hunter in the country was connected through Singer, either directly or indirectly.  And now, those of us who’d started to think that maybe the paranoid old bastard was right all along?  We all got the message, loud and clear!  Fall in line.  Do what we’re told.  Go where we’re directed, and kill the monsters we’re told to kill.  Don’t rock the boat.  Or what happened to Singer would happen to us all!”

            “But why?” Matt wanted to know.  The drummer was glowering as he stood protectively behind Bobby.  “I obviously don’t know anything about your version of Bobby Singer, but this one’s a cool old cat with a lot of knowledge about how to kill monsters.  And you said yourself that he’d connected all the hunters, just like he apparently did in his own reality!  So why take him out?  Wouldn’t it have been a better idea to join forces?”

            “Arthur Ketch doesn’t join forces with anyone,” Bobby growled.  “At least he never did in my reality.”

            “He didn’t here, either,” Rufus confirmed.  “He and his organization have always been all about control.  Ketch didn’t do partnerships, he did take-overs. He didn’t offer advice, he gave orders. And he didn’t care one bit for the way the American hunters did their jobs, the free spirits who lived off of the land under the radar of law enforcement and acted as lone wolves.  He wanted complete control!  And once he killed off Bobby Singer, that’s exactly what he had!  Every hunter except for one fell in line, and that one soon joined Singer in the afterlife. Now, except for a few of us that are acting secretly behind the scenes, the Men of Letters have complete control over hunting in America.”  Rufus spread his hands.  “To be fair, humanity as a whole has benefited from it.  This country has never had so few monsters, and those that are left try to keep a low profile.  The moment they pop their ugly heads, the Men of Letters assign a case and a hunter and down they go.  They even offer bounties on the tougher monsters.  But here’s the thing - just because something isn’t human doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a monster!  I think your angel friend’s proof of that!”

            “Amen to that,” Adam grumbled.  Blake squeezed his hand.

            “And that’s the real point of dissention between the American hunters and the Men of Letters,” Rufus explained.  “It used to be, hunters could decide for themselves if a monster really was a threat or not.  We had werewolves who only killed animals, or vampires who worked in blood banks and fed from the expired blood they were supposed to destroy, that kind of thing. Creatures who weren’t human, but actively tried to live peaceful, productive lives among humans.  They didn’t hurt anyone.  They held jobs, property, they gave to charity, they attended bingo at the local fire hall, they were just like their neighbors! Those types didn’t ask to be what they were, and all they wanted was to live out their lives in peace.  Hunters would keep an eye on them, pounce if they stepped out of line, but we had whole groups of them living side by side with humans. Hell, we used to have a few that actually helped out, were hunters themselves!  And once the Men of Letters took over, those were the first to go.”

            Hunter Sam shifted, and Blake saw Bobby glancing sharply at him.  Lawyer Sam raised an eyebrow at his counterpart, but if the hunter noticed, he didn’t respond.  But Blake was shaking his head.  “Wait,” Blake called.  “You telling me that these bastards actually killed the non-human hunters, like Cass?”

            “Your Castiel?  He would have been on the block a long time ago,” Rufus confirmed.  “He sure as hell is on it now!  And the bounty on his head is the biggest I have ever seen, especially if he’s captured alive!”

            This went over poorly with the band.  They yelled and swore and kicked furniture.  “That’s why that bastard tried to lock Castiel down, isn’t it?” PJ yelled over the noise.  “He wanted to capture him alive!  Why the hell did Ketch even try to help him get back to his dimension?”

            “At the time, the bounty wasn’t there.  It didn’t go into effect until the angel failed to return to his home dimension,” Rufus explained.  “We knew exactly what Castiel was, and that he was from a parallel universe.  And now we know he’s still here.  It’s the reason I ended up coming here!”

            “How the hell did you even find us?” Bobby wondered.

            Rufus’s wrinkled face smoothed into a gentle smile.  “Because I knew Bobby Singer,” he said.  “I knew how that old coot thinks, and I tried to figure out what he’d do.  It took me a while to find the right one, but I knew you’d hole up in some dump or another. Those expensive fancy-ass cars out front are a dead giveaway!  You were smart enough to switch the plates, Singer, but not smart enough to ditch those cars!”

            “Like the boys would have let me do that,” Bobby grumbled.  “Balls!  Whatever, get back to the story.  So there’s a bounty on Cass?”

            “Hell, there’s a bounty on all four of you guys!  See, the Men of Letters have two methods for dealing with monsters. The first is ‘Kill or banish.’  That’s what they do with most monsters.  But killing an angel isn’t easy.  They’re extremely powerful, they can heal, and they’re mobile enough that they’re difficult to corner.  It takes an equally powerful weapon, an Enochian blade.  And those are not easy to come by!”

            No one said a word.  Neither Blake nor the two hunters currently hiding Enochian blades changed expression.

            “If Ketch had been successful in sending your angel back to his own universe, well, that’s problem solved,” Rufus continued, oblivious.  “That’s why there was no bounty at first.  But obviously, something went wrong, because word is that the angel’s still around.  Castiel being an angel is bad enough.  The fact he’s from another universe?”  He shook his head.  “The Men of Letters want him found, and yesterday!  That’s why he warrants such a high bounty.  He’ll have every hunter in the nation gunning for his ass!  And as for you?”  He narrowed his eyes at Bobby and Sam Squared.  “I hope you realize, in the eyes of the Men of Letters, that means you’re now monsters, too?  You, and whichever one of the Bobsey Twins over there isn’t from this universe? You’ve already got bounties on your heads!  Congratulations, gentlemen!  You’re about to experience hunting from the wrong side of it!”

            “Oh, that’s bullshit!” Bobby snapped over the uproar this caused.  “We’re as human as you are!”

            “That is not going to matter one damned bit,” Rufus spat back.  “You’re from another universe, meaning your very existence is contrary to everything here!”

            “Yeah, we know,” Blake growled.  “They’re unicorns, our own personal Unicorn Gang!”

            Rufus blinked.  “Yes, in a way, they are!”

            “Get back to what you were saying,” Lawyer Sam ordered.  “We’ll discuss the Unicorn Gang afterwards.  What about our angel?  Because if Hunter Sam and Bobby are going to be hunted as monsters, then what’s going to happen to Castiel?”

            “Well, since method one didn’t work, Ketch and his organization will move on to method two,” Rufus declared.  “Capture or contain.  There’s a few items that can contain an angel’s power.  The Men of Letters have access to manacles, chains, and cages with Enochian runes that can hold most of ‘em.  For the really powerful ones, though, the one sure way to trap them is with a circle of burning holy oil.  No angel can get out of it, nearly all of their power is contained, and they’re trapped until the flames go out or the circle is broken.”

            “Yeah, we know,” Hunter Sam grumbled.  “We’ve seen it in action a few times.  So you think Ketch is going to go after Cass?”

            “I don’t think,” Rufus corrected.  “I know!  Every hunter is on alert, and we’re all looking for this angel.  But we’ve got strict orders for the collection of that bounty, orders I’ve never seen before.  Castiel is to be found, but once we find him, we’re not to approach.  We’re supposed to notify the Men of Letters.  Ketch wants this capture for himself!”

            “What a douchebag!” Jesse announced.

            “Boy, you said it,” James agreed, rolling his eyes.  “This Ketch guy is a grade A piece of shit!”

            “But why?” PJ wanted to know.  “What’s he want to lock up Castiel so badly for?”

            “He doesn’t.”  It was Sam Farrar.  The musician’s hands were clenched into tight fists.  “This goes back to when he tried to lock up our angel’s powers, back when Cass got Adam out of jail.  I guessed it then, and now I’m sure.  You said Ketch is all about control, right?  This is that same thing!  He doesn’t just want to capture and contain this time.  This time, he wants _Castiel!_   He wants our angel on a leash, under his control!  That’s why he wants to be personally involved, isn’t it?”

            Shocked looks filled the room as Rufus nodded gravely.  “Understand, I don’t know what Ketch is like in your universe, but here?  Control is pretty much the only thing he wants.  Near as I’ve been able to tell, it started shortly after he saw to the extermination of all the non-human hunters.  Last one to fall was a werewolf called Garth...  And it seems that’s a name that means something to you, as well?” Rufus added, seeing Bobby and Hunter Sam stiffen.  “Once the hunters had all pretty much fallen in line, Ketch stumbled on the existence of an old magic user, a former Man of Letters calling himself Magnus.  Magnus had a zoo, a collection of supernatural creatures that he had complete control of.  He used them however he wanted.  Ketch wiped them all out, naturally.  But the idea intrigued him enough that he started suggesting the Men of Letters start a zoo of their own.  He said it would be an ideal way to learn more about supernatural creatures, by studying live specimens.  And of course, he’d be in charge of it.  Even though he wiped out all the non-human hunters, he’s not above taking one of his enslaved monsters along to fight with another monster he’s hunting.  Now, it’s fairly common knowledge that, if you want to get on Ketch’s good side, bring him a new monster for his zoo.  But you know what he doesn’t have?”

            “An angel!” Mickey guessed.  “Sam’s right! He wants our angel, guys!”

            Rufus nodded again.  “If he could capture and control a live angel, that would be something that no Man of Letters in history has ever done.  Normally, something like that would piss off the hosts of Heaven and no one would be stupid enough to try it!  But an angel from another dimension, with no ties to the hosts of Heaven in this one?”

            “It’s open season!” Hunter Sam groaned.  “Shit!  Alright, we’ll have to warn Dean.”

            Rufus looked up sharply.  “Dean?”

            “My brother,” the hunter explained.  “If he’s not already out there with Cass, he’s on his way.”

            Rufus’s eyes were darting rapidly between the hunter and the lawyer.  “I forgot about him.  Dean Winchester!  Never thought I’d ever hear that name again, and then suddenly there he was on the bounty board!”

            Lawyer Sam narrowed his eyes.  “Wait a minute.  I know my family is legacies to the Men of Letters, but how do you know about Dean?”

            Rufus blinked.  “Your family is...?  Who the hell told you that?!”

            Lawyer Sam and Hunter Sam exchanged a startled look.  “In my world, we’re legacies because of our grandfather,” Hunter Sam explained.

            “And Ketch told me the same thing, that my grandfather was a Man of Letters,” Lawyer Sam confirmed.

            Rufus groaned.  “It’s a different reality, you damned fools!  No Winchester was ever in the Men of Letters that I know about!  Your family was only involved because of Bobby Singer, because he was close to your daddy, and kept tabs on you two boys after he passed away!”

            “Then I don’t understand,” Lawyer Sam said slowly.  “If I’m not a legacy, then how do you know about my brother?”

            “Because you are a legacy, you half-wit, but not because of your grandfather!  You're a legacy because Dean Winchester was a hunter!”

            That hit the lawyer like a blow.  He actually swayed on his feet, and Hunter Sam quickly moved to steady him. “That’s not possible!” Lawyer Sam exclaimed.  “Dean, h-he drank, and I thought he was doing alright, but then he got drunk and drove off a bridge!  The police told me they thought it was s-s-suicide!”

            “Oh bullshit!” Rufus spat.  “Sam, Dean Winchester may have been a drunk once, but after the last time you dried his sorry ass out and tossed him out of your house, it finally knocked some sense into him.  All that boy needed was a purpose in his life, a way to be useful and make the world a better place for you and your family, Sam!  That’s why, when he started working for Singer and found out monsters were real, he became a hunter.  And he took to hunting like a duck to water!  It was only a few years he was active, but in that time, he took out monsters that would have spooked seasoned hunters!  And he was the biggest advocate Bobby Singer had for the independence of the American hunters.  That’s why the stubborn son of a bitch was the only hunter who didn’t back down after Bobby’s ‘unfortunate accident,’ as they called it.”  Rufus sneered as he mocked an English accent.  “And that’s why they killed him.  Sam, Dean Winchester hadn’t had a drop to drink since the last time you dried him out.  He did not get drunk and drive off a bridge, and he sure as hell did not commit suicide!  That bastard Ketch killed him!  He murdered your brother!”  His eyes moved to Hunter Sam.  “And if your universe’s version of Dean is here, too?  He’s in almost as much danger as the angel!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun made his mad face and did not say anything. Has decided that Ketch now needs punched right in his fucking face every fifteen minutes now. Told the author he did not like Ketch anyway, now it is piled on. Thought it was cool, though, that Dean wasn’t just a drunk.
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Magnus, the former Man of Letters with his zoo, also collected rare supernatural artifacts. He possessed the First Blade. When Dean and Sam showed him that Dean had the Mark of Cain, required to wield the Blade, Magnus immediately kidnapped Dean to add to his zoo!


	22. Trench Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean travels to find his angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic songs here are "Not Enough" by Van Halen  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYmHUasmWeo
> 
> "I'll Never Let You Go (Angel Eyes)" by Steelheart  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwHVNBmgEEk

            _“To love somebody naturally, to love somebody faithfully, to love somebody equally is not enough, is not enough, it's not enough.”_

            Van Halen was playing on the radio as Dean approached his destination.  His heart pounded in his chest.

            _“To love somebody secretly, and never touch.  To love somebody honestly, and always trust.  To love somebody tenderly, the tender touch.  It's not enough.  It's not enough.”_

            There.  The building loomed ahead.  Cass was here.  Dean was sure of it.

            _“Love hurts you sometimes.  It's not so easy to find, no, searchin' everywhere.  You turn and swear it's always been there!”_

            Dean pulled Honey into the broken, empty lot and got out, his eyes on the building.  He’d driven almost non-stop to get here, stopping only for necessary pit stops or to nap on the side of the road.  The text he’d gotten from Adam had warned him to be careful, and to make sure his angel was well hidden.  But apparently, the warning wasn’t necessary.  Cass had done a fine job of hiding himself.  In Dean’s home universe, the Indiana State Hospital was a busy hospital and psychiatric institution.  But here, in this reality, the building appeared to have been deserted long ago.  No glass remained in any of the windows.  Someone had put a chain on the door, but Dean was able to ignore it in favor of climbing in over a windowsill.  By the looks of things, he was far from the first person to have done that.

            The inside was covered with graffiti and various bits of debris.  At a quick glance, Dean spotted several broken bottles, what appeared to be the butt of a joint, and a spoon with soot on the bottom next to a burned-down candle.  The abandoned hospital was obviously host to any number of illicit activities.  But in Dean’s reality, it had housed Sammy when he’d lost his mind following his ordeal in Lucifer’s cage.  And it had housed Castiel when the angel had taken that madness on himself, and eventually fallen into a coma.

            Cass’s trench coat was all that had been left of his angel after the leviathans had broken through his vessel.  And it was here, when he’d discovered a reborn Cass with no memory of who or what he was, that Dean had triggered those memories and given the coat back.

            Even now, Dean had no idea what had possessed him to bring the coat along with him in the trunk of the car that night.  The car he’d been driving hadn’t even been Baby! But after he’d retrieved the coat from the water, he’d carefully folded it and then taken it along with him everywhere. That coat had always seemed like a part of his angel, and secretly, Dean had never given up hope that someday, somehow, Castiel would return.  Only one other person, the demon Meg, had been there the day Dean had given the coat back to Cass.  Despite being a demon, Meg was the only real competition Dean had ever had for his angel’s affections.  But Crowley had killed her.  That meant that he, Dean, was the only one who knew about the night he’d returned the coat.  And that meant this was the only place his angel could be.

            Dean moved carefully through the rooms, pricking his ears at the sound of music ahead.  It sounded like an old radio.  To his great amusement, it was set on the same station he’d just been listening to.

            _“And if it don't come easily, one thing you must believe.  You can always have trust in me, because my heart will always be yours honestly.”_

            Dean hurried towards the sound.  He made his way cautiously through the empty rooms, clutching the coat to his chest.  “Cass?” he called.  “It’s me, angel.  I’m here.”

            He heard something stir in another room and quickly started towards it.  Movement ahead, in the same direction as the music.  Dean headed into the room and stared at an old, battered radio.

            _“Yeah, love hurts you sometimes!  Not so easy to find, no, searchin' everywhere, then turn and swear it's always been there.  Standing there!”_

            Dean heard a sound behind him.  He whirled around, and there was Cass.

            Cass was barely recognizable.  Black leather boots with jingling silver chains carefully picked through the debris on the floor.  He wore, of all things, black leather pants.  Leather pants!  Cass also wore a torn white v-neck t-shirt.  Bits of his smooth skin could be seen through the tears that made Dean stop breathing.  The shirt was partially covered by a black leather jacket.  Even seeing the photo of his made-over angel hadn’t really prepared Dean for this.  Cass looked nothing like the nerdy angel Dean knew, and Dean wasn’t sure what to think.

            Then those blue eyes locked with his, and Dean no longer cared.  “Cass,” Dean whispered.

            Cass rapidly moved forward, closing the gap between them until he stood almost in Dean’s personal space.  Then he stopped, his eyes still locked with Dean’s and his hands at his sides.

            Dean thrust the trench coat at him.  Cass looked down and smiled.  He took the garment and pulled it on over top of the leather jacket, adjusting it.  Apparently, no one had told him that he wasn’t supposed to wear coats in layers. Dean chuckled, carefully pulled the trench coat off, took off the leather jacket, tossed it aside, and helped Cass back into the trench coat.  That was better.  Now his angel looked more like Dean remembered him.

            Cass bore it all patiently.  He stood, head slightly cocked to the side the way he’d always done, watching Dean.  He gave Dean a slight smile.

            Dean tried to speak, but discovered his mouth was apparently no longer capable of producing saliva.  He cleared his throat, opened his mouth again.  Once more, nothing came out.  Everything he’d been wanting to say to Cass for the past month was bubbling up inside of Dean all at once.  It seemed like it had created a bottleneck that jammed all the words up, refusing to let any of them out.  All Dean could do was stand there like a fool, stupidly opening and closing his mouth.  _If you had a hand shoved up your ass, you’d be a sock puppet!_ he berated himself. _He’s here, you love him, and now you’ve finally got the chance to tell him all the shit you never let yourself feel for him.  So what the hell are you doing?!  Come on, asshole, say something!  Say anything!_

            Dean closed his mouth with a click.  His dry tongue licked at his equally-dry lips. “What the hell are you wearing?” he blurted.  “What’s with those damned leather pants?  You look like a creeper about to go cruising for teenaged girls!”

            In all of the English language, surely there had been something more stupid, more inappropriate, and more ridiculous to say to the man you were in love with after being separated for a month and in real danger of never seeing him again.  But at the moment, Dean had no idea what it could be.

            Cass only smiled.  He reached out his hand and gently cupped Dean’s cheek, his thumb lightly tracing over Dean’s eyebrow.  “Don’t say ‘damned,’” he advised.  “It’s disrespectful to angel kind.”

            Dean blinked.  “…What?”

            And then the hand moved to the back of Dean’s head, pulling him forward for a kiss.

            Apparently, Dean’s world’s version of Adam Levine had been holding back.  Or maybe Levine’s kissing skills couldn’t match the angel’s.  Or maybe it was just that this was Castiel, his angel, kissing Dean at last?  Whatever the reason, it was the kiss to end all kisses.  Cass’s lips were firm yet pliant, demanding yet giving.  He pulled Dean’s breath from his lungs and then breathed back into him.  His tongue licked forward and Dean gasped.  The moment his mouth opened, Cass’s tongue entered, exploring the inside of Dean’s mouth.  Dean’s hands came up and went to Cass’s chest.  Cass’s arms were around him now, keeping Dean pressed close to the angel as the kiss continued.  Dean licked into Cass’s mouth.  His hands slid down the angel’s chest, lingering at the tears in his shirt to lightly trace against Cass’s skin.  Cass slid up a hand to grip Dean’s hair, and Dean whimpered into Cass’s mouth.

            By the time Cass broke off the kiss, Dean was panting and tingling all over.  “What the hell?” he managed.  “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?!”

            The blue eyes were serious.  “You don’t like it?”

            “Wh-what?  No!  I mean, yes, I like it, I...”  Dean swallowed.  “Could you maybe do that again?”

            Cass smiled.  He kissed Dean once more and then drew back.  He was stepping back, why was Cass stepping back?  Dean made a small noise of protest, twisting his fingers into the angel’s shirt to try to hold him, pull him back.  But Cass’s hands went down, fingers catching the front of Dean’s jeans, using them to pull Dean forward as the angel continued to move back.  Ah. Dean willingly allowed himself to be guided.  Cass kept pulling him, leading Dean back behind a seemingly-haphazard collection of junk and bits of cardboard boxes to where a few dirty blankets had been placed on the floor next to a small pile of supplies and clothing.  Dean blinked at it.  “This is where you’ve been living?”

            “It’s actually probably cleaner and has less insects than some of the seedy motels you and your brother have stayed in,” Cass noted.

            Dean couldn’t argue that one.

            Cass’s hands moved from the front of Dean’s jeans to his hips, turning Dean and pushing him down.  Dean went where he was directed, letting Cass push him down onto the blanket and straddle him.  Cass’s hands moved over him, tracing the shape of Dean’s body through his clothing. Then he was kissing Dean again, the trench coat coming off and the torn shirt flying to join it.  Dean reached up, tracing the muscular chest.  His fingers trailed down over the muscles of Cass’s abdomen and then fumbled with Cass’s jeans.  It had occurred to him that, while he’d seen his angel with his shirt open, he’d never actually seen Cass undressed.  That was something Dean was suddenly eager to rectify.

            But just as Dean got the button of Cass’s leather pants undone, Cass suddenly seized both of Dean’s wrists and abruptly pushed them back, pinning them next to Dean’s head.  He paused, looking down at Dean with troubled blue eyes.  “What?” Dean asked, alarmed.  “What’s the matter, Cass?”

            “I love you, Dean,” Cass said simply.  “And I want to show you that, but I have to know for sure.  Is this ok?”

            “Is this…?!”  Dean groaned in frustration.  “Is what ok?  Touching me?”

            The angel nodded.  “Touching you, doing...  Doing what I want to do to you.  Is this alright, Dean?”

            His eyes were so blue.  How could his eyes be so blue, so serious and full of love as they looked down at him?  And once again, Cass was Cass.  Here they were, partially unclothed, about to embark on sex for the first time, and he wanted to know if Dean was alright with it.  Dean wanted to scream.  “You’re seriously asking me this now?  I’m flat on my back and you’re on top of me and already half-naked, and _now_ you want verbal consent?!”

            “I’ll stop if you’re not ready,” Cass offered. “Adam told me I needed to be very careful not to hurt you, because I could do it so easily.  In my current condition, the risk is certainly less, but it’s still important that I establish consent.  We haven’t talked about this.  I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not prepared to do.”

            Dean ground his teeth.  “Cass, I am the one who was in the process of taking your pants off, ok?!  Yes, I love you, and it’s ok!  Touch me, do whatever you want to me!  For fuck’s sake, if you don’t touch me right now I may fucking explode!”

            That was apparently all the angel needed to hear. He had them both undressed in moments and was kissing Dean everywhere, worshipping Dean’s body.  Dean’s breathing was reduced to needy gasps. Then Cass gave him a quick lick where the licking was good and Dean nearly fell to pieces.  “Fuck!” he whined.  “Where the hell did you learn this shit?!  Have you been watching more porn?”

            “Adam gave me a great deal of advice.”

            “Remind me to thank him.  Aaaah!”  Cass’s mouth was hot and wet, taking Dean in with a low hum that made Dean’s toes curl. “Ok, stop, I’m not gonna last and I want this to fucking last!  Oh angel, I’ve been so stupid, so stubborn, and I love you, I love you so much I love you _I love you!”_

            Dean’s words devolved into a grunt as he caught Cass’s arms and abruptly threw the surprised angel sideways.  In an instant, Dean had rolled on top of him, using his weight to pin Cass down, wrapping his arms around the pliant body.  He attacked Cass’s neck, marking him greedily.  Then he kissed him again even as he rutted shamelessly, grinding their cocks together between them.

            Cass’s eyes went wide.  His mouth opened, letting out a little “Oh!” of pleasure.  “Th-this isn’t like the first time I did this,” he gasped.  “It’s so much more intense, more… more!  It’s more _more,_ Dean!”

            Dean silenced him by kissing him fiercely again. He ground against Cass, grinning into the kiss as Cass’s frantic cries were swallowed.  Beneath him, Cass was writhing, hands grasping at anything they could clutch.  Dean held him down, held him still, selfishly enjoying the fact that, without his angel strength, he could overpower Cass now.

            Cass managed to turn his head and break free of the kiss.  “I c-can’t! Let me up, get off of me!  Please, Dean, I want to be inside of you!”

            “That so?”  Dean’s eyes narrowed, his smile widened.  “You want to fuck me, angel?  That what you want to do?”

            “Yes, please let me up!  Let me have you!”

            Dean’s eyes gleamed.  When he’d imagined this, he’d initially been surprised that he’d pictured himself as a bottom.  He’d been even more surprised at the thrill that gave him, the idea of being taken by Castiel.  Hearing this confirmation from his angel brought back that same thrill.

            But he didn’t let the frustrated angel up. He kept pushing Cass down by his shoulders while he sat up, brought his legs forward until he was straddling Cass. He slid one hand from Cass’s shoulders to his chest so he could continue to hold him down.  Then, gaze locked with the wide blue eyes, Dean reached back for his jeans, for the lube he’d packed.  He pretended to ignore the panting whines, applying lube to his fingers. Careful not to let Cass up, he slid higher on the angel’s chest and twisted around until his rear was towards Cass’s head, using his legs to pin his needy lover’s arms.  Then Dean rose slightly, ensuring that Cass had an unobstructed view while he worked his fingers inside of himself, opening himself up.

            Cass’s already quick breathing became even quicker. His breathing stopped completely when Dean dipped his head down and took his angel into his mouth, working with tongue and lips and teeth even as he continued to prep himself.  Cass gave a high-pitched cry.  Once more, he was thrashing beneath Dean.  “Let me up, please let me up!  Dean!  I _have_ to have you!”

            The desperation in his voice made Dean shiver.  _He wants me,_ Dean thought smugly.  _He’s so beautiful, and he wants me! Despite everything, despite all the shit I’ve put him through, my angel, my Castiel, wants me!_

            Cass did indeed want him.  That was obvious by the copious amounts of precum Dean was lapping up, by the way Cass’s fingers dug into Dean’s thighs, by the way Cass strained to raise his head for a better view.  And Dean couldn’t stand it anymore.  He shifted, rapidly spinning around again to position himself over Cass’s erection.  Dean slowly eased himself into place with a sigh at the slight burn, his eyes locked on his angel’s face.

            It seemed as if Cass had forgotten exactly how breathing was supposed to work.  The sounds he was making seemed somewhat strangled.  His head was thrown back, chin in the air.  His hands held so tightly to Dean’s hips that Dean winced. Dean began to move, sliding up and down, up and down, feeling his body constrict around Cass’s cock, hearing the cries this produced.  Cass looked completely wrecked, but abruptly he sat up, forcing a surprised Dean back onto his back and taking control once more.  Cass grabbed Dean’s thighs and pulled him forward, turning him onto his side. Now he was pounding away, coming at Dean from another angle as Dean writhed and cried out.  Then Cass shifted slightly again, and suddenly he was nailing Dean’s prostate with every thrust.  “My Righteous Man,” Cass growled, his gravely voice even deeper. “My brightest light!  I gave up Heaven for you, gave up all I was, all I’ve ever known.  And I’d do it again, Dean!  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, no sacrifice I wouldn’t make, if it meant I could have you with me until the end of time!”

            Dean gave a little cry.  Then the world went white as his orgasm hit, the long-denied tension finally releasing into sheer ecstasy.  He heard Cass cry out as well, felt the angel’s body jerk, felt the telltale twitch deep inside of his body as Cass reached his own orgasm.  Then Cass collapsed behind Dean, letting himself go flaccid still inside of Dean’s body.  He slipped his arms around Dean and pulled him close.  Both of them were panting and sweaty.

            Dean lay as he was, the fingers of one hand laced with Cass’s, idly tracing Cass’s arms with his other.  “Hey Cass?” he called.  “Much as I’d like to stay right here, I kind of doubt you’ve got working showers here.  If we don’t clean up a little, things are going to be very sticky!”

            “Can we wait just a little longer?” Cass’s sleepy voice replied.

            “Yeah,” Dean whispered.

            The old radio was still on, but had moved to another song.  Dean smiled, recognizing the tune.  _“Angel eyes!  You have angel eyes, and a smile that lights up my life!  You’re a dream come true, now I’m holding you, and I’ll never, never let you go.  I will never let you go!”_

            “I love you, angel eyes,” Dean said.

            “I love you too, Dean.  I think I always have.  And as long as you’ll have me, I always will.”

            It fell from the angel’s lips so easily, so naturally, it was as if Cass had said it a million times before.  And that made Dean frown.  “I know this isn’t the best pillow talk,” he apologized, “but I gotta know. You’ve been around since the beginning of time!  How many others have there been?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Righteous Men,” Dean clarified.  “People you’ve watched over, people you’ve...”  He swallowed.  “People you’ve loved.  I’m not jealous or anything.  I mean, you’re with me now, and that’s awesome and fuck everyone else, but I’d still like to know?”

            Cass stirred, lifted his head slightly.  “You want to know how many people I’ve fallen in love with, other than you?”

            “Yeah.”

            “None.”

            Dean blinked.  “Huh?”

            “I’ve come to understand that I’m fairly unusual among my brothers,” Cass explained.  “I have human emotions, and I always have.  But I never really understood that before.  There have been others, other souls that I’ve found myself strongly drawn to.  But I’ve never seen another like you, Dean.  And that’s why I fell in love.  I couldn’t help it.”  His fingers gently stroked Dean’s arm, where the first touch of the angel’s hand had once burned its mark.  “My fellow angels were right.  From the moment I laid my hand on you in Hell, I was lost.”

            Dean’s head was spinning.  Ok, maybe he had been a little jealous of the imagined others, the previous loves in Castiel’s life.  But to hear this, to find out that he was the only one?  That made Dean’s heart sing with joy.

            Steelheart was belting out the chorus on the radio.  _“I’ll never let you go!  You’re always on my mind!  You’re the only one for me, you’re all I need, and I’ll never, never let you go!”_

            Dean smiled, remembering Blake saying that sometimes music helped express what you couldn’t say otherwise.  Well, that may certainly be true, but there was one thing he needed to say to Cass, that he could never say enough.  He took Cass’s hand, brought it to his lips.  “I love you,” he whispered.

            “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun skipped the “mushy stuff.” Points out that he picked out the song that was playing when they finally got back together “because it’s perfect!”
> 
> The manip is one of dozens you can find all over the internet, no idea who did any of them. I just picked the one I liked best. People seem to love putting these two together!


	23. Early Morning Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group discusses the night before and engages in some good-natured teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Mr. Fun! I love you!

            “That,” Jesse declared, “is the last time we ever eat Mexican while we’re all sharing this trailer.  I swear Mickey exploded last night!”

            “It was self-defense!” Mickey protested. “You kept spooning me, you asshole!”

            “So you shit yourself?!”

            “It was a burrito and it gave me gas, ok?!”

            “Thank you for this lovely breakfast conversation,” Matt called.  He calmly continued to eat his cereal.

            “Count your blessings, Jesse,” Sam Farrar grumbled. “At least you didn’t have to listen to Blake and Adam doing the nasty all night!  I swear, for a guy in his forties, Blake’s got some serious stamina!”

            “Adam probably cheated and juiced him with his angel power,” James suggested.  “I didn’t hear a thing!”

            “That’s because you snored all night!  I swear I’m half deaf!  I should have gone and slept in the hall with PJ!”

            “I didn’t get much sleep either,” PJ admitted. “Sam Squared was up half the night talking.”

            “You calling them that, too?” Jesse asked. “That Dean guy, I haven’t made up my mind about him yet.  But he is kind of good with the names, isn’t he?  Sam Squared and Sam’s Club, ha!”

            “At any rate, Sam Squared probably had a lot to talk about.  Then I’m fairly certain they did a bit more to comfort each other than just talk.” PJ shrugged.  “Can’t say I blame ‘em.  Honestly, I might have done the same thing.”

            That got everyone’s attention.

            “Dude, seriously?”

            “No way!  Those two went at it?”

            “Talk about fucking yourself!”

            “Damn, PJ, I never knew you swung that way!”

            “I don’t!  I’m saying that if I met an alternate version of myself, and we were sharing a bed anyway, why not, you know, experiment?”

            “That’s true.  No one can do you like you can do yourself, right?”

            “Ok, there is just way too much sex in this trailer.”

            “Why is it that there’s three beds, and they go to Adam and Blake, Sam Squared, and Bobby and Rufus?”

            “Hey, Bobby’s an old man!  You can’t expect him to sleep on the floor!”

            “Damn, Matt, why are you so protective of Singer?”

            “I love that old geezer!”

            “Clearly!”

            “Ok, I’ll concede a bed to the old guys.”

            “I’m still stuck on the idea of Sam Squared! Isn’t Lawyer Sam married?”

            “How is it cheating when it’s yourself?”

            “Yeah, if it was, I’d be committing adultery every time I jerked one out.”

            “Which is at least twice a day.”

            “Dude, you got hair on your palms!”

            “Sam Squared should give up their bed so Rufus and Bobby don’t have to pile in together.”

            “Maybe they wanted to?”

            “If someone tells me Bobby was at it with Rufus last night, I swear I’m sleeping outside under this trailer tonight!”

            “What?!” Bobby exclaimed as he came out into the kitchen.  “Hell no!”

            Sudden silence from the group.  “How long have you been listening?”

            “Long enough!  What in blazes is wrong with you boys?!” Rufus asked.  “One, I’m not into that ugly son of a bitch or any man. Two, I got plumbing older than this trailer!  It’s not so easy for Caesar to stand at attention anymore.”

            “Oversharing!”

            “Ok, there went my appetite!”

            “You boys started it,” Bobby grumbled.  “And three, not that it’s anyone’s business, but last night I slept on the floor and Rufus got the bed.  Tonight we’ll swap.”

            Blake, who had been listening with amusement to every word while he dressed came sleepily into the kitchen, yawning as he walked.  As soon as the band spotted him, they broke into a round of applause.  He blinked, and then grinned and gave them all the finger. “What’s for breakfast?”

            “Whatever you can find.”  Bobby peered past Rufus into the fridge.  “Too bad Dean’s not here.  We could use his cooking skills.”

            “I can cook!”  Blake pushed past the two older men and started gathering ingredients.

            Adam suddenly appeared at the table and was greeted by a string of startled curses and a dropped egg.  He grimaced.  “Sorry,” he called.  “I should have warned you.  Just trying to tap off the juice, you know?”

            Rufus was frowning at Adam.  “How in the hell did you do that?”

            “It’s a long story,” Adam sighed.  “Dean texted me late last night, said he found Castiel and he’s fine.  He got my message, too.  They’ll be careful.”

            A set of matching chuckles announced the arrival of Sam Squared.  “They have a good time?” one of them asked.

            Adam smirked.  “I imagine they did!  Did the two of you?”

            Identical blushes spread across identical faces as they turned to regard each other.

            “Yeah, we heard you,” PJ called, grinning.  “No shame, I’d have wanted to do that at least once if I ran into my alternate self!”

            “W-we were just, um, experimenting,” the first Sam mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck.  His face, like that of his counterpart, was flaming red.

            “Yeah, it’s not like we, er...”  The second Sam cleared his throat.  “Ok, I’m sorry you heard that.  I didn’t realize we were being loud.  But we’re not, um, together or anything, alright?  Don’t get the wrong idea!”

            “Hey, it’s cool,” Jesse assured.  His eyes were on the food Blake was cooking.  “It’s ok to be curious and want to experiment, and who better than yourself?”

            “That’s exactly it,” the first Sam agreed, sounding surprised.

            “Thanks for making breakfast, Blake, but what are we doing about showers?” Matt asked.  “We got a lot of guys smelling pretty funky, and I’m betting this trailer doesn’t have a tankless hot water heater!”

            Bobby jerked a thumb towards Sam Farrar.  “Let the kid figure out a shower schedule.”

            “Sure thing!”  Farrar gave him a jaunty salute.

            “Can I just make one request?” Rufus called. “The last thing I want to see is a bunch of guys running around in their underwear.  Why are Blake and Adam the only ones dressed?”

            “I was being polite, figuring y’all didn’t want to see me running around in my underwear,” Blake informed him.  “So I got up and got dressed before I came out here. Adam cheated.  He doesn’t sleep.”

            “Doesn’t mean I didn’t take my clothes off last night,” Adam called slyly.

            A chorus of groans rose.  Blake grinned and finished making breakfast, dishing it out as everyone stepped out and returned fully clothed.

            “You know,” Bobby noted between bites, “I think that the only time Maroon 5 shuts up is when their mouths are stuffed with food.”

            “That’s something I wondered,” Rufus began.  “You guys, your name is Maroon 5, but there’s seven of you!  Can’t you count?”

            Adam rolled his eyes, looking annoyed.  “Gee, I’ve never heard that one before!”

            “We started out as a five-man group, when Adam moved to vocals and we picked up James,” Mickey explained patiently. “Then we just added a few more people along the way.”

            Rufus nodded thoughtfully.  “Makes sense.”

            “About as much sense as some old geezer running around impersonating an FBI agent,” Bobby grumbled.

            “Who’s impersonating?  I am an FBI agent!”  Rufus proudly displayed his credentials.  “I’m pretty near retirement, but I’ve been with the bureau for longer than most of the people at this table have been alive!  What the hell made you think I was impersonating an FBI agent?”

            Bobby swallowed.  “No reason.”

            “Because that would be a damned stupid thing to do,” one of the Sams – Blake was certain now it was Lawyer Sam – remarked.  “Great way to earn yourselves a nice fat jail sentence!”

            Hunter Sam was suddenly very interested in his breakfast.  Lawyer Sam looked from him to Bobby and sighed.  “I don’t want to know.”

            “Probably best if you don’t,” Hunter Sam agreed.

            Then James, who was once again at the window to observe the trailer park drama, spoke up.  “Hey, Rufus, you got a partner?”

            “Not anymore,” Rufus growled.  “Not since Ketch killed Bobby and Dean!”

            “I mean in the FBI,” James clarified.

            “Nah, I tend to be a little rough on partners,” Rufus replied.

            “Imagine that!” Bobby grumbled.  Rufus glowered at him.

            “Then who’s the asshole outside in the black suit?” James asked.

            Sudden silence.  Adam, who had been pacing near James while everyone else ate, peeked out the window.  He drew back in horror.  “His _face!”_ he exclaimed.  “What the fuck is wrong with his face?!”

            Bobby and Hunter Sam suddenly produced angel blades. Blake drew his own and moved with Hunter Sam to peer out, ignoring the sudden surprised cursing from Rufus. Both of them groaned in stereo. “Of all the people to exist in this world,” Blake complained, “why the fuck did it have to be him?!”

            “Because I swear I’m cursed,” Hunter Sam sighed. “Come on, Blake.  Let’s go get the son of a bitch.”

            “Wait a minute.”  Blake stopped the hunter, his eyes on Adam.  “Adam’s seeing his face fucked up because of the angel thing, right?”

            “That’s right,” Hunter Sam confirmed.  “There’s ways they can hide themselves, to a point, especially if they go deep.  But yeah. Adam seeing the monster inside is proof positive of what that thing is!”

            “Then that means Adam can pretty much mop the floor with the bastard, right?”

            The hunter’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Yes, Blake.  Yes, he can!”

            Blake gave him a wicked grin and turned back to Adam. “Hey, Rockstar?” he called.  He gestured towards the creature outside. “Sic ‘em!”

            Adam blinked.  Then his shoulders straightened, and his eyes blazed.  He went storming outside, slamming the door behind him.

            “What the hell is going on?!” Rufus asked. “Adam Levine’s an angel now?!  I knew you had an angel, but I thought it was the bodyguard, not the rock star!”

            But Bobby had apparently already caught on. “Just move back away from the door,” he advised.  “I suspect we’re about to get company.”

            It was good advice.  Less than a minute later, the figure of a man in a black suit came crashing through the closed door and kept flying, splintering part of the wall to land in a sprawl in the bedroom.  Adam returned, coming casually through the broken remnants of the door and stepping through the debris.  He approached the groaning man, grabbed him by the lapels of his coat, and easily tossed him back through the now widened doorway to land on the floor in the living room.

            “Bleeding buggering _fuck!”_ the man howled.  “Call off the fucking dog!  I’m on your side!”

            “You have _never_ been on our side, Crowley!” Bobby snarled.  “Rufus, is this asshole as big of a pain in your ass as he is ours?”

            “I haven’t got the slightest idea who he is,” Rufus declared.

            Adam had the demon by the hair and was ignoring the yelps of pain as he dragged Crowley up and threw him into a chair. “Blake, what do you want me to do with him?” he asked.

            “Hold on a moment,” Lawyer Sam cautioned.  “Ok, I take it this is our world’s version of this King of Hell you told me about, Sam?”

            Hunter Sam’s face bore an expression of extreme disgust.  “The one and only!”

            “He ain’t king of shit in my world,” Rufus announced.  “Some yellow-eyed bastard named Azazel is running things downstairs.  Oh,” he said, noting the sudden change in Hunter Sam’s expression and Bobby’s sharp intake of air.  “I take it that you know of him?”

            “Yeah.”  Bobby’s voice was a low growl.  “And if he’s in charge down below, we may have bigger problems than we thought.”

            “Believe me, I am very much aware of that!” Crowley spat.  He flinched as Adam moved towards him.  “Bugger me, Levine!  When I spotted you, I thought at first that old Cassie decided he wanted a change of meat suits, abandoned poor Jimmy Novak and got inside of you, but that’s not it, is it?  Bloody angel’s gone and done something new with you, hasn’t he?  I’ve no idea what you are!  Steady on!” he yelled as Adam moved again.  He raised his hands in supplication.  “I don’t know what you are, but you’re far stronger than Dean’s boyfriend ever was!  I’m no match for you, and I’m fully aware of that, so do please calm down and speak to me in a civilized fashion?!”

            “You know about Dean and Castiel?” Lawyer Sam asked, looking at Hunter Sam.  Hunter Sam still had an odd look on his face.  His green eyes seemed miles away.

            Blake frowned in confusion, and then realized what Lawyer Sam had apparently already guessed right from the start.  “Holy shit!” Blake breathed.  “This isn’t this world’s version of Crowley.  This is the real thing!  Bobby, this son of a bitch is _your world’s Crowley!”_

            “Live and in person!” Crowley confirmed.  He made a show of smoothing down his hair and adjusting his coat.  “Now that introductions are out of the way, I don’t suppose I could interest you in a polite chat?  I do believe we’ve got quite a bit to discuss!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun told this writer, “You’ve just gotta keep piling it on, don’t you?!” Clapped for Adam “throwing that asshole the fuck around.” Said “That was excellent!” in a silly accent. Thought the breakfast conversation was hilarious, although what Sam Squared was doing was completely wrong. “I don’t get it!” We had a conversation about that, that it’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to experiment. The author states she’d experiment, Mr. Fun said he would not. Discuss.


	24. Tough Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles with Castiel's decision

            Castiel was beautiful when he smiled.

            He was standing outside in the sunlight, leaning against the rusted remains of an old sign, seemingly enjoying the sun and the out of doors.  And he was smiling, a slight, quiet little smile.  He still looked strange in the leather jacket, but his trench coat covered Dean as he lay naked on the pile of blankets where they’d slept.  Cass sleeping.  Still weird, but hopefully his angel would be back to normal soon enough. At least he was no longer wearing the stupid leather pants!

            Dean quickly dressed and then moved out to join him. Even as he came up behind Cass and closed his hands on the angel’s slender waist, he felt a little thrill go through him.  That he could do this, touch Cass like this, just go up and put his hands on this amazing, wonderful, ancient, gentle being?  It didn’t seem real.  None of it seemed real, especially their lovemaking last night.  But here he was, sliding his hands over Cass’s flat stomach, wrapping his arms around his angel’s waist and holding the solid, pliant body close to his own.  Cass relaxed back into Dean’s embrace and Dean kissed him.  Then he handed the angel his trench coat.  “Take the other one off first!”

            Cass chuckled.  He obediently pulled off the leather jacket, tossing it back towards his belongings.  Then he slid his arms back into the familiar trench coat.

            Dean moved behind him again and once more took his angel into his arms, peering over his shoulder to see what had captured Cass’s attention earlier.  “Whacha looking at, angel?”

            “The bees,” Cass explained.  “I’ve watched the bees a lot since I’ve been here.”

            Dean groaned.  “I swear, Cass, if you show up naked and covered with bees again like you did when you went nuts and were a patient here...!”

            Cass frowned.  “That was a confusing time,” he announced.

            “Well, you were insane.”

            “Yes.  But at least it helped me notice the bees.”  The smile returned.  “Everyone should take some time to study bees.  They’ve got a lot to teach us.”

            “Fascinating.”  Dean was far more interested in Cass.  He nuzzled into Cass’s neck, kissing the mark he’d left there.  “You’re so warm,” he mumbled into the angel’s skin.  “I could hold you like this forever!”

            Cass leaned back against Dean’s chest and breathed deeply.  He brought up a hand and carded his fingers through Dean’s short hair.  “You’re beautiful,” he said.  “My Righteous Man.”

            Dean chuckled.  “I’ll never understand that, Cass.  Why do you call me that?  After all the shit I’ve done in the time you’ve known me?  Even you were ready to give up on me at one point!”

            Cass seemed to consider this.  His hand remained in Dean’s hair, his other hand resting over Dean’s arms around his waist.  “No,” he said.  “I told you I no longer believed in you.  Maybe, at the time, that was a little true.  But if I’d really stopped believing in you, I would have taken you in, Dean.  Handed you over to the hosts of Heaven and Michael to try to redeem myself in any way possible.”  He twisted his neck, turning his head so that the deep blue eyes looked into Dean’s. “I never really stopped believing in you.”

            Dean couldn’t be self-conscious about the happy little sound that rose in his throat.  Cass smiled.  He turned around in Dean’s arms and pushed him against the wall.  Then his hands were all over Dean, rubbing over his stomach and chest and arms as he kissed him again and again.  Dean grinned, feeling the first telltale stirrings. “Round two?” he suggested, slipping his arms around Cass’s waist again.

            “We’re a bit past two at this point, Dean, don’t you think?” Cass chuckled.  “Let me go.”

            “Why?”  Dean could hear the whine in his voice and didn’t care.  “Cass, I should have put my hands on you ages ago!  Now I can, and you’re telling me I gotta let you go?”

            Cass’s hands moved to Dean’s face.  “Dean, I have wanted to put my hands on you for so long! But I knew you wouldn’t let me. Now I can touch you as much as I wish, and believe me, I would like nothing more than to keep doing it!  But we have responsibilities, Dean.  We can’t hide out here with each other and ignore the others.  Adam especially will need your help.  He’s strong, but what’s inside of him now will tear him apart if he doesn’t release it enough!”

            Dean scowled.  “What do you want me to do about it?”

            Cass leaned forward and kissed him.  Then he stayed as he was, eyes closed and forehead pressed to Dean’s.  “No one knows me and my powers better than you, Dean,” he said quietly.  “You can guide him now, show him what he can do to release some of his Grace without drawing too much attention to himself. That’s the task I have set for you. Will you do it?”

            “Yeah.”  Cass’s breath was right in Dean’s face, his lips almost brushing against Dean’s when the angel spoke.  It was totally cheating.  How could anyone say no when Cass was that close?  Well, two could play that game!  Dean quickly closed the gap, sealing his lips to Cass’s.  Then he turned, and pressed the angel against the wall, just as Cass had done to him.

            Cass laughed.  “Let me go, Dean!  This isn’t helping!”

            “Don’t care.”  Dean playfully caught the angel’s hands as Cass tried to push him away and pinned his wrists to the wall.  Then he took full advantage of his hold to attack Cass’s mouth.

            Cass gave a little groan that sounded like it was half irritation and, to Dean’s delight, half arousal.  Dean felt the angel clench his fists and try to twist his hands out of Dean’s grasp.  Dean tightened his grip, pinning the angel’s wrists more firmly to the wall even as he pressed his body up against Cass, grinding lewdly, exploring Cass’s mouth with his tongue.

            Cass tried and failed to say something that sounded suspiciously like a curse.  Dean felt the angel’s muscles tense, felt his body strain, trying hard now to pull his wrists free.  Dean braced, expecting to go flying any moment.  But it didn’t happen.  And suddenly Cass went still.

            For a moment, Dean was confused.  Then he remembered – Cass didn’t have his Grace. That meant he didn’t have his angelic strength, either.  All he had now was the strength of his vessel.  Dean had never tested that strength before.  But while Jimmy Novak was slim and lean, Dean was strong and solid. And the sudden realization of how easily he’d just overpowered his angel made Dean stop breathing for a moment.  Last night, the fact he could overpower Castiel was fun.  But now, knowing Cass would be here alone and undefended...?

            Dean paused and drew back, not letting go of Cass, and looked at him.  Cass’s expression was troubled.  He strained again, struggled to free himself.  But Dean held him easily.  The blue eyes studied one of Dean’s hands as it pinned him, glanced back at Dean, and returned to his hand.  He struggled a bit more.  Then he grew still again.  His eyes closed for a moment, he lowered his head, and he sighed.  “This vessel doesn’t have nearly the strength I’m accustomed to,” he said quietly, not looking up.  “Please let go of me, Dean?  I’m not comfortable being held like this.”

            “So get loose!”

            Cass struggled a bit more, then frowned in irritation.  “I can’t! You’ve pinned me, now let me go!”

            Dean felt cold all over.  “Cass?  Get loose. You can do it, angel!  Come on, get loose!”

            “I can’t, Dean!  Jimmy Novak’s body is no match for you.  He was a radio ad salesman, and you’re a hunter!”  He tugged against Dean’s grip, frowning.  “I don’t like this!  Let me go!”

            “Cass, listen to me.  I need you to get loose, alright?  The thumb is the weak point.  Pull your arms in and then out, break this hold!  If that doesn’t work, go for the instep, or if all else fails, a knee to the nuts!  Just get loose!  I need to know you can get loose!”

            The blue eyes looked up, studied him for a moment. And then, responding to either what he saw in Dean’s eyes or heard in his voice, Cass was struggling again.  He twisted his wrists as Dean had instructed him. And to Dean’s great relief, he managed to free his hands.

            Dean smiled, but it faded fast as he looked at Cass. Then he lunged forward, trying to pin the angel again. 

            Castiel was a warrior.  Even now, his fighting reflexes were still there.  The blue eyes went wide, but Cass responded to Dean’s attack by sweeping a leg out, trying to trip Dean.  Dean danced over it, grabbing for Cass as the angel tried to get past him. Cass brought his hand sharply up, just grazing Dean’s chin as Dean twisted his head out of the way.  But Dean had Cass’s arm now.  He jerked hard, sending Cass stumbling back, and moved behind him, crowding the angel, forcing him back towards the wall.  He could feel Cass’s muscles tense as he tried to throw him off.  But where once his angelic strength would have resulted in Dean flying away from him, now he only succeeded in wrenching his own shoulder.

            Dean moved quickly, spinning Cass around and twisting one of the angel’s arms behind his back.  He shoved his lover forward until Cass’s chest was pressed against the wall.  Then Dean held him there.  Cass made a little frustrated sound, struggled frantically for a moment, and finally grew still.  Dean felt sick.  It was easy, so easy to overpower Cass now, to pin him like this.  Too damned easy!  “Cass?” he called weakly.

            Cass stayed as he was.  He struggled a bit more, but stopped when Dean easily held him still.  “Let me go, Dean,” he said quietly.  “I can’t get away from you.”

            “No.  No, you can’t.  You can’t!” Dean let Cass go, only to turn him back around and pull him into a fierce embrace.  “Dammit, Cass, you don’t know how to fight like a human!  Without your Grace, anyone can attack you, hurt you, and you can’t fight back!  You’re out here all alone, with nothing but some broken walls to protect you?  A werewolf or a vamp would make a meal of you in ten seconds flat!  And you’re from another reality!  Every monster, every fucking demon, is going to come after you!  Hell, even the angels here want a piece of you!  I can’t just leave you all by yourself!”  He shook his head.  “You can’t stay out here.  I gotta take you back with me!”

            Cass pushed against his chest.  “I can’t go back with you!  The hosts of Heaven are after me, Dean!  You know what that means, how dangerous it is!  They are one of the few things that not even a hunter can stand against.  Fighting them nearly destroyed the world in our own universe!  We can’t fight them again, and if you take me with you, you’ll only endanger everyone else!”

            “Dammit, Cass, I won’t leave you here alone!”

            Cass twisted in his arms until he was facing away from Dean.  He pried at Dean’s hands.  Then he lunged forward, trying to use his weight to break Dean’s grip around his waist. “Let me go!  You have to respect my decision!”

            “Like hell!”  Dean frantically tightened his arms around his angel, turned, and started dragging Cass towards the car.  Cass fought, and Dean snarled in frustration.  “Come on!”

            “No!  Stop this!”

            “I’m stronger than you now, Cass,” Dean warned. “I’ll drag you back if I have to!”

            “No, you won’t!”  Cass clawed at Dean’s hands.  “You fought so hard for me to take back my free will, now respect it!  This is my choice!  I’m not going with you, and if you try to force me and take me away, I will run!  I will hide somewhere you can’t find me, and you may never see me again!”  He squirmed.  “Let go of me, Dean!  Let go!”

            “This is crazy!  Stop fighting me!” Dean ordered as Cass thrashed in his arms.  “I love you!  I can’t leave you out here alone and helpless!”

            “If you love me, then you’ll respect my decision and not try to force your own will onto me!” Cass snapped.  “Let me go!  Now!”

            Dean let him go.  Cass was scowling when he turned to face Dean, his blue eyes smoldering. “I am aware that, in my current state, my ability to defend myself is severely limited,” he began.  “I am also aware that the fact I happen to be from another universe as well as an angel makes me an extremely tempting target. And that is precisely why I chose to be here!”

            “Cass, I...!”

            “No, Dean!”  Cass held up a hand.  “I want you to listen to me now.  Will you listen?”

            Dean’s heart was pounding.  Until now, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to rely on Cass’s angelic strength, his power.  Even when Cass was at his most vulnerable, Dean had never been able to really forget that Cass was an angel, a being of immense power.  When this had happened before, after Cass’s Grace had been stolen, it had been difficult.  Cass, determined to survive on his own, had tried to adjust.  Dean had done his best to support him, even giving the angel advice on what he’d thought was a date.  But it had been a huge relief when Cass again had access to his powers.  Now that his angel was human again, the worry Dean had felt before was back in full force.  But it was compounded by the sheer danger Cass was in.  Everything in Dean wanted to grab Cass, drag him to the car, lock him in the trunk if he had to, and take off.  To take him back to Adam and demand the rock star return his angel’s Grace, restore Cass to what he really was.

            But even as Dean considered this, he looked into Castiel’s deep blue eyes and knew he couldn’t do it.  He could never force Cass into anything against his will.  Not even to save his life.

            “I’m going to assume this isn’t a complete shock to you, that Adam told you why I gave him my Grace,” Cass began.  “So you understand why I did it.  And yes, Dean.  I know you’re capable of physically forcing me to join Sam and the others.  But earlier you asked me a question, about why I call you my Righteous Man?  I’m going to answer that question now.”

            Dean’s hands were clenched at his sides as he forced himself to keep from grabbing his angel and begging him to return with him. Instead, he nodded.

            “Being here, learning about Cassiel?  It’s taught me a great deal about myself,” the angel began.  “I understand now how it was that I was so easily able to rescue you, and later Sam, from Hell.  Both of you were unjustly persecuted, Righteous Men.  And that gave me strength.  Dean, you know now that what happened to you, the way you ended up in Hell? One way or another, the hosts of Heaven were going to make that happen.  Because to break the first seal to free Lucifer from the Cage, to trigger the apocalypse, a Righteous Man had to be broken in Hell.”

            “I know,” Dean said softly.  “That’s why you waited until I broke before you came for me.”

            “At the time, I saw you as just another soul,” Cass continued.  “But at the same time, you never were.  Right from the start, we shared a profound bond because you fascinated me, Dean. You aren’t a good man.  Even when you haven’t been influenced by others, you haven’t been a good man.  You’ve lied, you’ve stolen, you’ve deceived others.  You’ve hurt people.  But you are a Righteous Man because you’ve suffered all your life unjustly.  It was more than just being sent to Hell to save your brother.  Dean, you had your life stripped from you so you could be forced into an image your father had of you as the perfect hunter.  You’ve fought and bled and even died to help others!  And you’ll continue to do that, because that’s who you are. The Righteous Man.  The man who is unjustly persecuted and who suffers so that others don’t have to.  And that makes your soul shine in a way that none other does, a way that is absolutely unique to you.”  Cass’s hands came up, gently stroked Dean’s face.  “You’re beautiful, Dean!  The brightest light in this world or any other.  And even though I tried to deny it, to hide and repress them?  I always had human emotions.  I couldn’t help but fall in love!  From the moment I put my hand on you to raise you from Perdition, I was doomed to love you.”

            “But here, Cassiel always knew he had human emotions,” Cass explained.  “He knew about Dean Winchester here, but his charge was far greater than any I’ve ever had. I was only assigned to a garrison. He was a Prince of Heaven, guardian of his part of it.  For that reason, he ignored his human emotions, brushed aside what even an archangel couldn’t help but feel for the Righteous Man.  Cassiel’s mandate drew him to his Dean, but also bade him not interfere.  Not even to save Dean’s life.  He never knew, until he met me, why over and over again he found himself drawn to a certain part of Heaven, to a place where one bright soul resided.  He never understood, never knew that an angel could have a human soulmate.  But I do, Dean.  I do!”

            Cass reached out his hand and gently stroked the back of his knuckles against the stubble on Dean’s cheek.  “I’m not Cassiel, Dean.  I love you, and I will do what it takes to protect you, protect you all. And that means I stay away. You’ve suffered enough!”

            “You don’t think I’ll suffer if you’re not with me?” Dean exclaimed.  His hands were fisted at his sides.  “You don’t think it won’t kill me if anything happens to you?!”

            “I’ve hidden well enough until now, Dean,” Cass reminded gently.  “I’ll hide for a bit longer.”

            Suddenly, the angel pulled Dean back into his arms, fiercely hugging him.  “I’m not willing to give you up,” Cass declared.  “I want this, to be with you.  And I’m glad that my first time with you was as a human, a man loving another man.  Someday, perhaps, I’ll find a way to be able to love you as I truly am.  For me, that would be the ultimate dream!  But for now, this is enough.  And I need you to be safe, Dean!  I can handle whatever comes so long as I know you’re safe! Will you do me this honor?  Will you go back and stay safe for me?”

            “Cass...  I...” Dean swallowed hard.  Then he finally nodded.  “Don’t do anything stupid!”

            “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

            “I said don’t do anything stupid!”

            The angel laughed.  Then he smiled, his blue eyes soft, the love he had for Dean shining as bright as his Grace ever had.  It would have been beautiful if Dean wasn’t so afraid, if his heart wasn’t pounding and his nails weren’t digging themselves into his palms.  “You call me every day,” Dean demanded.  “And I mean every single day!  You got my number?”

            Castiel nodded, looking serious.  “Of course.”

            “I wrote it down for you anyway, just in case.” Dean thrust a piece of paper at his angel.  “Here. I wrote down everyone’s numbers, so if you can’t reach me, you can reach someone.  So you call!  And Cass, so help me, if you don’t call me every day by noon, I’m coming back out here and throwing your ass in the trunk!”

            “Alright.”  Cass was smiling at him again, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat.  But it quickly caught up when his pulse raced as Castiel pulled him close and kissed him.  “Goodbye, Dean.  I love you.”

            “I love you, too.”

            Getting back into Honey took a huge act of willpower. Starting her up and seeing Cass standing there, watching Dean with a little smile on his face, was even harder. But Dean didn’t know if he had the strength to actually put the Impala in gear and drive away from his angel. Dean rolled down the window and stuck his head out.  “Every fucking day, Castiel!” he yelled.  “If you don’t call me every day by noon, I’m going to kick your skinny human ass!”

            “My skinny human ass has been duly warned,” Cass replied solemnly.  “Can I get away with texting you?  Recharging my phone has proven to be a bit of a problem.”

            “Fine, text!  You’re not off the hook on this one just because your battery dies!  Use a pay phone, use a carrier pigeon, send me some smoke signals, I don’t care how you do it!  But somehow, I better hear from you by noon every day!  You can always reach Adam, right?  So if all else fails, you’d best tell him to tell me you’re ok!”

            “I can, and I will.  One way or another, I will contact you every day by noon.”  The smile grew soft.  “I love you, Dean!”

            “I love you too, Cass!”  Dean’s hand was shaking as he shifted gears.  He swallowed down the bile that was rising in his stomach, his eyes locked with those of his angel.  If Cass was so much as one minute past noon, he was coming back out here.  He’d watch the papers, monitor for any sign of supernatural activity.  If he saw anything, he was coming out here.  If so much as a bad _storm_ was coming, Dean was coming out here.  Cass was so exposed and alone out here, not even a proper roof over his head.  And their roles had reversed.  Cass needed Dean to protect him now, and Dean was determined to do it.  But now, now he had to leave his angel, his lover, his sweet Castiel, all alone.  _Drive,_ he ordered himself. _He’ll be alright.  And if you find any... not an excuse, any REASON, to come back out here, you’ll do it!_

            By the time he was down the road and could no longer see Cass in the mirrors, Dean was already looking for a place to pull over. Throwing up in the bushes was something he usually only did after he’d had way too much to drink.  Having way too much to drink actually sounded like a good idea right now.  Dean looked longingly back towards where he’d left his angel.  Then somehow, he found the strength to get back in the Impala and start driving away.

            He’d be back.  Cass would be fine.  Cass had to be fine.  Dean had no idea what he would do if he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says, “Oh boy.” That was really tough. Thinks he’d have left him there. Being a born protector just makes stuff like that so difficult, because he can’t protect him because Cass is right. His points were valid. That was probably one of the hardest decisions that man’s ever had to make.


	25. The King Dethroned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley explains how he ended up trapped in the wrong universe with the very people he'd trapped himself.

            “Lovely living accommodations, gentlemen,” Crowley noted.  He calmly looked around, smiling pleasantly as if he wasn’t in a room full of hostile faces, being menaced by three hunters with angel blades and one extremely moody faux angel.  “I have to say, your landlord’s likely to be hot once he sees the damages in here, but for once, money isn’t an issue for you lot.  Don’t suppose anyone’s got a decent scotch?”

            Adam, who had been irritably bouncing an old tennis ball he’d found somewhere against one wall, casually bounced it off of the demon’s head.  Crowley sighed and turned to stare flatly at him.  “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got some anger management issues, mate? I’m here under a flag of truce, offering my services in the name of assisting us all to get back to where we belong!  Is it possible that you not get your feathers all in a tizzy long enough to chat like a civilized being?”

            “Civilized?!” Bobby exclaimed.  “You son of a bitch, the last time I saw you, you were throwing us all through a portal, _after_ you’d put your hands on one of my boys!  You have pulled so much shit that you’ve been on borrowed time with me for years! And I have yet to hear a reason I shouldn’t gank your sorry ass right here and now, just because you stole a kiss from Dean while you had him locked up in your spell and he was helpless to stop you!”

            “He did _what?!”_   Hunter Sam’s eyes were suddenly full of fury.  Obviously this was the first time he’d heard this bit of information.  He started forward, his hand tightly gripping his angel blade.

            “Sam!”  Lawyer Sam looked nearly as upset as his counterpart.  But he was remarkably calm as he caught Hunter Sam’s arm, and stopped the others with an outstretched hand.  “We need to know how he’s here, alright?  Because the portal collapsed after he threw Bobby through, didn’t it?” He looked at Maroon 5 for confirmation, noting the nodding heads.  “Then how the hell did he get here?  He had to have used something other than the portal we had.  And when he tells us what that is, then we’ve got a way to get everyone back!”

            Crowley clapped his hands with exaggerated slowness. “Bravo, Sammy, bravo!  Absolute pleasure to see you again, incidentally, and this time back in your own body?  How marvelous!”

            “Shut up,” Lawyer Sam told him.  “Dean told me what you did to him, you piece of shit! I know how you banished Castiel, stole a kiss from Dean, and then trapped everyone over here!  And I have listened enough to the stories about what happened while Blake was over there that I am just as eager as everyone else here to see Adam Levine smite you into a smoking crater!”

            Adam brightened.  Crowley eyed him.

            “And you can stop with the eyes looking hopefully all over, too,” Blake added cheerfully.  “Dean’s not here, Crowley.  He’s with Cass, in the Biblical sense.  And you will never put your hands on him again!”

            For a moment, Crowley gave Blake a look of outright hatred.  But the demon’s face swiftly returned to neutral.  “Good for Cassie then,” was all he said.

            “This guy really a demon?” Mickey wanted to know. He was peering at Crowley, adjusting his glasses as if unsure of what he was looking at.

            “I am _the_ demon, you stupid ape!” Crowley spat.  “The King of Hell!”

            “Actually,” Blake drawled, “it seems to me like in this universe, you’re the king of Jack and shit, and Jack left town!  So why don’t you get off your high horse? Because every ‘stupid ape’ in this room is better off than you are right now!”

            Crowley took in a deep breath, breathing through his nose.  “Your point is, of course, valid,” he admitted.

            Adam bounced the tennis ball off of Crowley’s head again.  “So start talking,” he ordered.  “How’d you get here?”

            “How do you think, feathers?” Crowley snapped. “That ginger tart double-crossed me! And of all people, she did it with him!” He pointed an accusing finger towards Blake.  “The blood of a man from another universe.  That, and that fucking magazine, were all she needed to make herself another lovely hex bag.  I thought I was returning in triumph to my kingdom!  Instead, I sent all of you lot through, returned to Hell, and a hex bag landed at my feet!”  He narrowed his eyes, looking over Bobby and the band.  “I made it back to the park in time to see you lot leave and followed you here.  And I’ve been keeping an eye out ever since, monitoring you from a distance, trying to keep hidden so that trench-coated bastard wouldn’t spot me.”  He cleared his throat.  “For reasons that may perhaps be obvious, I would prefer not to meet up with Castiel.”

            “Yeah, I bet he’d be real happy to see you, wouldn’t he?” PJ noted. 

            James nodded.  “Especially if he knows you kissed Dean!”

            “Yes, well, clearly you understand my hesitation,” Crowley grumbled.  “At any rate, when I didn’t see him, I took a chance, came closer.  My plan was to make contact and attempt to join forces, see if we can perhaps help each other.  But then that _thing_ happened!”  He glowered at Adam.

            Blake could move deceptively fast when he wanted to. He was up in an instant, leaning over Crowley in his chair.  One hand slammed against the table.  The other stabbed downward with his angel blade.  “Call Adam a thing again,” Blake invited.  “Watch me move this blade about two inches north!”

            All eyes went to Blake’s blade, stabbed into the chair between Crowley’s legs less than an inch below his groin.  Crowley narrowed his eyes.  “Be careful who you threaten, Mr. Shelton!”

            “No,” Blake replied.  “See, you and I have a deal.  You can’t touch me or my family for several generations, remember? Therefore, Adam and I can do anything we want, up to and including using you as a urinal, and you cannot do a single thing about it!  How’s it feel to be hoisted on your own petard?”

            Bobby actually chuckled, while Hunter Sam was looking at Blake with open admiration.

            Blake calmly pulled his weapon free and returned to his chair, making sure the blade was in full view.  “So here’s my suggestion,” Blake continued amicably. “You apologize to my husband.  Or I turn you into a woman!”

            Crowley swallowed audibly.  “I see your point.  My apologies.  Won’t happen again.”

            Adam gazed at Blake with his heart in his eyes. 

            “Adam, no offense, but...  Damn!” Jesse called.

            “You should know, though, that this... condition Mr. Levine finds himself in?” Crowley said, obviously choosing his words very carefully.  “The God mob is going to take offense.  Castiel really should have known better!  Why he would even do such a thing is quite beyond me!”

            Once more, the tennis ball bounced off of Crowley’s head.  “Never mind me,” Adam advised.  “You said you wanted to join forces?  Why?”

            “Because he’s got no choice,” Bobby called.  “He’s a sparkly rainbow unicorn!  Son of a bitch is a demon from another universe, and even his own kind are going to be hunting him!  He had to come crawling back to us.  He’s got nowhere else to turn!”

            “Except that means he’s got a hell of a problem, and the pun is definitely intended,” Hunter Sam said.  “After what he did to us, what he did to Cass, to my brother? I cannot imagine a single scenario where I had any intention whatsoever to help him!  In fact, the only thing I’d like to do with this bastard is take him out into the woods where he won’t stink the place up and end him once and for all!”

            “Wait,” Lawyer Sam advised.  “Sam, I get it.  The fact that this piece of shit is the reason you’re all trapped over here is bad enough.  Knowing what he did to Dean makes me honestly want to borrow your weapon and end him myself! But there’s something you need to consider.”  His green eyes rested on Mickey.  “When Mickey got a hold of a couple of witches to help us with the spell we used to open our portal, they only wanted one thing in payment – Castiel.  I’m thinking that if a witch sent Crowley here, then we’ll need a witch to help all of you get back!  Now, no one is willing to let witches put their hands on our angel. But I honestly don’t think I’ll hear a lot of objections if we hand over a demon from another universe as payment for that spell!”

            “I object!” Crowley yelled.  “I object strenuously!”

            “Nobody cares, demon!” James growled.  “I’m all for Lawyer Sam’s idea here.  Mickey, call those people and let’s talk deal!”

            “Deal?  I am _king_ of the deal!” Crowley roared, pounding a fist on the table.  “Let me tell you what will happen.  If you turn me over to witches, you’ll only exchange the devil you know for the devil you don’t!  Blake’s blood gave the ginger tart enough power to send me here.  What, exactly, do you suppose your witches can do with bits and pieces of me?!”

            That sobered the group.

            Crowley adjusted his jacket, regaining his composure. “I am coming here, hat in hand, asking for your help.  But I am still who, and more importantly, what, I am.  And I expect nothing for free!  So let’s talk deal.”

            A chorus of groans rose from the hunters and Lawyer Sam.  Adam threw his tennis ball again, but this time Crowley caught it.  “Do not underestimate me,” the demon advised.  “I may lack the resources I once had, but I can still be an extremely valuable asset.  If nothing else?  My mum was a powerful witch!  And I assure you, I did not spend my time with her idle.  I’m a witch in my own right!  You are correct.  A witch sent me here, a witch can send all of us back.  All I need are a few components, perhaps some spell books?”

            “What kind of components are we talking about?” Farrar wanted to know.  “I may be able to help a bit with spells, after all the research Lawyer Sam and I did looking for them.  But if you need some eye of newt or something...?”

            “I can give you a complete list once I have the spell,” Crowley declared.  “But I can tell you at least two absolutely essential components that we already have right here!”  He raised his hands, indicating Sam Squared.  “Two matching souls, one from each universe.  Perfect place to start, mates!  With the Moose Twins, I can very easily make a distinction between both universes.”

            “Why’s he calling them the Moose Twins?”

            “They are kind of tall.”

            “And shaggy.”

            “Dude, pot meet kettle?”

            “Yeah, no one’s complaining about your shaggy ass!”

            “He’s shaggy, too!”

            “Half the guys here need a haircut.”

            “Never underestimate the value of good hair!”

            “I may be shaggy, but I still look good!”

            “You also spend an hour in the bathroom trying to fix that mop on your head!”

            “True beauty takes time.”

            “You got the time part right, anyway.”

            “Sam Squared must spend a fortune on styling products!”

            “Holy shit, Singer!” Rufus yelled.  “Do these clowns ever stop their comedy act?!”

            “No,” Bobby grumbled.  “Boys?  Shut it! Rufus, you’re still part of the Men of Letters, right?”  When Rufus nodded, Bobby continued.  “There’s a bunker in Kansas.  Think you can get us into that?”

            “My library!” Hunter Sam whooped.  “Get me in there with Sam and Sam, and we’ve got spells covered!”

            Rufus coughed.  “That, I probably couldn’t do.  But since you’re going to have to leave this lovely trailer anyway, I can take you out to one of my safehouses which has a library of its own.  It’s not as extensive as the one the Men of Letters have, but I think you’ll find it useful all the same.”

            “That’s great!” Farrar cheered.  “Honestly, we may not need Crowley at all!”

            “Love you too, darling,” Crowley sighed.  “But you do need me.  Unless, of course, you want Tattoos here to power this spell? But then he’ll be stuck with all that bright shiny Grace, and what happens to poor Cassie?  No, gentlemen, you need me.  I can make, cast, and even power this spell.  All I need is time and materials.”  He paused, seeing the looks being exchanged.  “Oh, do go ahead and talk it over amongst yourselves!  I’ll step out a bit.”

            Adam casually shoved him back down as the demon started to get up.  “What do you think, guys?  Can we trust him?”

            “No!” came from multiple mouths at once.

            “But at the same time, he’s right,” Hunter Sam grumbled.  “Cass is going to have to take his Grace back out of Adam before he goes home.”

            “Which is the other reason you need me,” Crowley insisted.  “Because while I do apologize for upsetting you, Mr. Shelton?  What is inside of your handsome husband here is quite simply not meant to be.  The consequences will be dire!”  He narrowed his eyes at Adam.  “It’s already affecting you, isn’t it, Levine?  That power is burning you up inside, and you will never, ever be the same!” He smiled.  “Tell me, did darling Cassie warn you of that?”

            “As a matter of fact, he did,” Adam snapped, pointedly not looking over as Blake straightened.  “He warned me about that, and I agreed to it.  So don’t try to act like he pulled anything over on me!”

            “Still, it’s a rather odd thing to do, isn’t it?” Crowley cocked his head, seeming to examine Adam.  “What possible reason could he have for it?  And before you yell that it’s none of my business, I think it’s best that I know the truth.  After all, with dear Cassie nowhere around, I do believe that makes me your best hope at help!”  He leaned forward.  “So tell me. What’s going on that made our favorite pretty angel decide to dump all his Grace into a country singer?”

            “Rock!” Maroon 5 yelled as a unit.

            Crowley waved them off, his eyes still on Adam. “Tell me,” he encouraged.

            Adam looked at Blake, who in turned looked at Bobby. Bobby was scowling fiercely.  But at last, he nodded.  “Tell him, Adam.”

            Adam nodded.  Then he told Crowley about Cassiel, and Castiel’s desperate plan for survival.

            Crowley listened in silence.  His face was set in a frown.  “I see,” he said.  “Well, that’s a real problem.  Understand, angelic Grace isn’t exactly my forte, but it seems to me that this temporary fix of Cassie’s isn’t even much of a fix.  Tell me, Levine, have you noticed any changes, other than the addition of the wings and your eyes glowing?”

            “Not really,” Adam replied.

            “So everything you can do, there’s nothing at all different than what Castiel had?” Crowley asked, rubbing at his chin. “Good news if there isn’t, but I find it difficult to believe.”

            “Adam’s wings!” PJ called.  “He’s got some grey feathers, while Castiel’s were all black.”

            That got Crowley’s attention.  “Show me,” he demanded.

            Adam opened his wings.  Crowley stared for a moment.  Then he looked at Blake.  “Hey Sexy, do you know anything at all about the angels in your world?” he asked. “Any chance they have white wings? Because I have a theory.  You see, even though Castiel’s put his Grace into Adam, it is still his Grace.  That means it’s still power drawing on the same source as Cassiel!  With Adam holding it, it’s likely slowed down quite a bit.  But we don’t know how bad the archangel was before it happened, and I’ve no doubt it’s still happening.  This, gentlemen, is a problem.  But at least it gives us a way to gauge the severity.”

            “You’re saying the more white feathers in Adam’s wings, the more he’s drained off Cassiel’s power?” Jesse asked.  “And when they’re all white...?”

            “When he or Castiel are sporting all-white wings, well, that’s bad news for Cassiel,” Crowley confirmed.  “That means it’s imperative that we make this next full moon!”

            “Then I guess you’d better get busy on that spell!” Hunter Sam snapped.  He was still glaring at Crowley with murder in his eyes.

            Crowley rolled his eyes.  Then he glared disdainfully at Hunter Sam, jerking a thumb towards Lawyer Sam and Maroon 5.  “Hey Bullwinkle, why can’t you be a bit more like Montgomery and the Get-Along Gang?  They at least know how to play nice!”

            Lawyer Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Is he always like this?” he mumbled.

            “Yes,” Hunter Sam growled.  “Yes, he is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laughed about Adam bouncing the tennis ball off of Crowley’s head. Loved Blake about to turn Crowley into a woman. Laughed when everyone corrected him with “Rock!” Shook his head, but says Crowley makes a valid point. Did not see the wing thing coming at all!
> 
> This is what Crowley is referencing:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myNe1GJDxZM


	26. At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group moves to a new safe house. Meanwhile, Castiel starts to think he's overstayed his welcome.

            Leaving his angel behind was hard enough.  Getting told they were leaving the trailer for a new location, making him travel even farther away from his angel, was worse.  And learning that fucking _Crowley_ was waiting there was the worst yet.  Seeing that bastard’s smug face had just ruined Dean’s week.  Dean wouldn’t admit it, but his knuckles still throbbed from punching the son of a bitch.  And of course, Crowley was perfectly fine now.  In fact, he was back to his usual annoying self.

            The entire group had packed up and was just waiting for Dean to arrive so they could move to a safe house that Rufus had set up.  Convenient, since their trailer was currently missing the front door and part of a wall.  Dean didn’t even want to know how that had happened.  Bobby had declared that their landlord was “a greedy sumbitch anyway” and hadn’t bothered even letting the man know about the damage, or their imminent departure.  Now everyone was piled into the cars and following Rufus, Bobby, Blake, and Sammy, who were riding in Rufus’s car ahead of Dean.  At least they’d managed to find a use for Crowley.  The demon had finished the job of putting spells and hexes on all the vehicles.  While they certainly weren’t invisible, the magic would gently encourage anyone but the most alert observer to think little of their presence.  John Winchester had long ago put identical magic on Baby.  It was the only way the beautiful Impala had stayed as unnoticed as it had been all these years.  And adding the protections to Honey had been among the first things Dean had done.  Now, to a casual observer, the flashy expensive cars drew no more notice than Rufus’s battered vehicle.

            Now they were all on the road.  Dean was once again driving Honey.  Lawyer Sam was currently slouched in the passenger seat next to him, looking disgusted. Adam was sitting in the back seat behind Dean, twisted so his back was against the door and his legs were partially up on the seat.  The singer’s hazel eyes were fixed on Crowley.  Crowley was seated next to him.  The demon was busy playing air drums on the back of Lawyer Sam’s seat.  He appeared very much into his music.  “Unholy Alliance” by the Scorpions was blaring from the Impala’s speakers, and Crowley was apparently accompanying it.

            Lawyer Sam sighed loudly.  “What if we turned on the radio?”

            “I doubt it would make a difference,” Dean growled.  He glared at the radio, which was off.  The music was so loud that the windows were vibrating slightly. “Crowley!” he barked.  “Can’t you at least turn it down a little?”

            Crowley barely glanced at him, intent on his drum beats.  But at least the music turned down slightly.  _“Uh-uh-uh-un, unholy alliance!”_ the demon sang.

            “You maybe shouldn’t quit your day job to be a singer,” Adam noted, “but you’re surprisingly not bad on the drums, dude.”

            “Adam, do not encourage him!” Dean called.  His hands clenched the wheel.  “Crowley, I am about to pull this car over and throw your ass in the trunk!”

            The music instantly stopped.  Crowley leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at Dean.  “Dean, that was completely uncalled for the first time you did it,” he announced.  “It would be doubly so now!”

            “Don’t care.  Don’t fucking push me, Crowley!  I’d still like to gank your ass for what you did to us, especially to Castiel! Frankly, I’d like to wrap you up and drag you behind this car, but that would probably get us pulled over, so I’ll settle for the trunk.  Lawyer Sam can tell all his friends that the junk in his trunk is the King of Hell!”

            Crowley flicked an unseen speck from his lapel.  “Does he know you’re into bondage?  Does Cassie?  You two get a little freaky the other night, Squirrel?”

            “We’re also going to have a long chat about what you did to me before you pushed me through the portal,” Dean growled.  “And I swear, if you even try to say I liked it...?”

            “So sorry, darling!” Crowley called with a smirk.  “Next time, I’ll use a breath mint first.”

            Dean’s fists clenched on the steering wheel.  “If you ever fucking touch me again...?!”

            Crowley raised his hands.  “It was a temporary moment of weakness.  I thought I’d never see you again, so I gave you a goodbye present.  Now that I know what a bad kisser you are, I’ll leave you to dear Cassie.  I rather doubt he’s got enough experience to tell the difference.”

            “I’m starting to think he wants to be locked in the trunk!” Adam marveled.

            “Is this how you got to be King of Hell?” Sam wanted to know.  “Did you just keep irritating the other demons until they voted you in?”

            The demon snorted.  “That’s rich, Montgomery.  Demons voting for the King of Hell!  I can just picture my campaign posters.”  He gestured with his hands, outlining an imaginary poster.  “My smiling face in the center, billowing flames in the background. And the slogan!  ‘Make Hell Great Again!’  That should rock the vote, wouldn’t you say?”

            “You really don’t seem all that evil to me,” Adam noted.  He was still staring at Crowley.  “Mostly, you just seem like an asshole.”

            “Don’t be fooled,” Dean growled.  “Crowley’s his own special kind of evil.”

            “I’m King of the Crossroads, darling,” Crowley explained.  “Master of the deal.  And I am responsible for making and sealing more deals than any other demon in Hell, ta very much!”

            “Deals?  You mean, like...”

            “Souls,” Crowley confirmed pleasantly.  “I brokered deals for souls in exchange for favors.  Humans are such greedy creatures, aren’t they?  You simply would not imagine the sort of things that they willingly sell their precious souls to obtain!”

            Adam blinked.  “Wait, so you get people to sell you their souls?!”

            Crowley’s smile grew sly.  “I can give you a demonstration, if you’d like?  What would you be willing to sell your soul for?”

            Dean groaned.  “Dammit, Crowley!”

            “Nothing!” Adam declared, frowning.  “There’s nothing in the world that’s worth selling my soul for!”

            “Oh really?”  Crowley tapped on his chin with the crook of one finger, seeming to study Adam.  “How about your husband?  Your band?  Your darling sexy cowboy is ahead of us in one car, and all your friends are in the cars behind us.  This road, it can be dangerous.  Accidents happen all the time.  What if someone hit something on the road, had a blow-out, went off the road and straight on into a tree?  Could you imagine how you’d feel at that final moment, cradling one of your loved ones in your arms and watching the light go out of their eyes?”  He leaned closer, his smile widening as he saw the look on Adam’s face as Adam looked away.  “Ah, see?  It would appear that maybe there’s something in this world worth selling your soul for after all!”

            “Except for the simple fact that Adam’s basically an angel right now,” Sam called, sounding bored.  “If something like that happened, he could heal them, even resurrect them, and no need for you at all.  Seems to me like you’re pretty much obsolete and worthless right now, Crowley!”

            In the rearview mirror, Dean could see Adam visibly relax.  Dean gave Lawyer Sam a grateful smile, and received a wink in return.

            Crowley had lost his smile, but not his composure.  He sat back, straightening his coat.  “Seeing as how most people do not have access to angelic Grace, I believe I’ve proven my point, none the less,” he announced. “Under the right circumstances, even you would sell your soul, Levine.  So don’t act all holier-than-thou with me!”

            “See, this is the kind of shit this asshole does, Adam,” Dean explained. “The thing to bear in mind is, that scenario he just gave you, about the car accident?  Nine times out of ten, Crowley would have been the one to arrange that little ‘accident’ in the first place, just to get your soul!  He has his ways of getting what he wants.”  He glared at Crowley in the rearview mirror. “And he’s a sneaky, underhanded son of a bitch.  You want an example, take a look at yours truly!  This bastard worked for a solid month to get us all to a point where he could fuck us over and throw us through that portal.  He worked on poor Blake pretty much the whole time, manipulating him, taking advantage of Cass’s mistake, until we didn’t have any choice any longer but to do what he wanted.”  Dean was gripping the wheel again, ignoring the way it made his injured knuckles throb.  “By the time it was all over, he was able to banish my angel, throw us all into this world...  He even got to steal a kiss from me before it was all said and done!  If it wasn’t for Rowena being just like him and fucking him over, too?  Crowley would have gotten absolutely everything he wanted at the end!”

            Adam looked horrified, his eyes wide in remembrance.  “Castiel knew what he did, that he put his hands on you, Dean! That hurt him worse than even being banished!”

            “No shit!” Dean snarled.  “That’s half of why he did it!  He didn’t just fuck my angel over, he hurt him as much as he possibly could!”

            Adam stilled.  He seemed suddenly fascinated by his own folded hands.  “I was wrong,” he said quietly.  “You really are evil!”

            Crowley smiled.  “Yes, darling, that’s what the card says.”

            They rode the rest of the trip in silence.

            Rufus’s safe house was an old bomb shelter.  Dean found it faintly comforting.  It reminded him a lot of the bunker.  They arrived at 11:30 am, and just like clockwork, Dean’s phone pinged with a text from Castiel.  His angel had kept his word.  Since he’d left Cass behind, he’d been texting Dean promptly at 11:30 am, letting Dean know he was still alright.  It did Dean a world of good.  He read the text and smiled fondly.  “Apparently the bees are active,” he announced.

            “Bees?”  Lawyer Sam, walking next to him, looked confused.

            “Oh bloody hell!” Crowley groaned.  “I swear, if that’s some euphemism for sex, I may actually be sick!”

            Dean ignored him.  He put an arm around Adam’s shoulders and drew the singer away.  “Cass asked me to work with you, teach you a bit about your powers,” he offered.  “That sound like something you’d be interested in?”

            Adam’s face lit up.  “Yes! Yes, please!  Crowley offered the same thing, but frankly I’d rather learn from you.”  He smiled. “Castiel, he told me a lot about you, Dean.”

            Dean smiled back.  “Ok! Let’s get settled in here, and then you and I can get to work.”  He was still smiling as he watched Adam head back to the cars, ready to use his angel strength to help move the heavy stuff.  He’d already decided that he liked Adam.  At first, he’d been worried that Adam would be like the Adam in his own world.  But this version of Adam, while he could be abrasive at times, was typically chipper and bright, with seemingly endless energy.  Dean could see why Blake was so enamored of him.  Working with Adam could be fun.

            It went without saying that teaching Adam how to better control his powers was the closest Dean could come for now to being with his angel.  Naturally, Castiel would have thought of that.

****

            Humans, Castiel decided, really should spend more time watching bees. They could learn a lot from bees. He’d always been fond of them.  For a time, after he’d taken Sam’s madness onto himself and spent time in this very mental institution, Castiel had taken the opportunity to get to know the bees tending to the flowers around it.  He’d spent hours watching the busy insects go about their business.  They were fascinating.  No individual bee tried to outperform her sisters by gathering more or stealing another bee’s flower.  No bee took extra breaks or slacked on the job when she should be out gathering. Bees worked together for the good of the hive, even sacrificing their own lives in order to protect that hive. Bees, he’d quickly realized, were a great deal like angels.  Castiel knew he’d certainly spent enough time flying around, tending to his duties, fighting for the good of Heaven over his own continued existence.  But while bees could certainly fight, most of the time they lived in peace.  By gathering for themselves, they fertilized flowers and ensured that life would go on for the world around them.  And their honey was wonderfully sweet.  Castiel had taken full advantage of his diminished sense of taste to enjoy it.  How sad that so many people thought of bees primarily as frightening insects that stung.  Bees were so much more than warriors!

            Now that he thought about it, angels could learn a lot from bees, too.

            Bees even filled his dreams.  Of course, the main focus of his dreams was, remained, and would likely always be Dean. This morning, he’d awakened from a lovely dream of walking hand in hand with Dean among the flowers, watching as the bees went about their business.  In his dream, he’d made slow, sweet love to Dean right there among the flowers, thinking that none of them were as beautiful as Dean’s smile.  It was a nice dream.  He’d been sorry to wake up.  But at least the bees were still here.  He had no desire to strip and clothe himself with them again, as he’d done once when his mind had been broken.  How embarrassing, to appear that way to Dean, but the hunter had called him just when he’d arranged the bees to his liking.  At the time, in his state of mind, he’d expected Dean to approve.  The way Dean had jumped up with a barrage of swearing had startled him, and, unfortunately, the bees.  Mortifying, and rather painful.  Oh well.

            Being in hiding, Castiel had again been reminded of the simple fact that humans really had been handed a raw deal.  It was little wonder his Father cared more for them than He had for any of His other creations.  Being human himself now, Castiel had experienced a myriad of difficulties. Until he’d grown more accustomed to the layout of the building, he’d banged his toes and shins frequently in the darkness.  As the moon continued to wane, that darkness got even deeper, and soon, the new moon would be upon him and that darkness would be complete.  Sometimes the nights got cold, especially if it rained.  He’d spent more than one night shivering, wrapped in his leather jacket and trench coat under his blankets.  Meanwhile, the days were often hot.  He’d find himself seeking shade, fanning himself with whatever he could find, feeling sweaty and sticky and uncomfortable.  Keeping his clothing clean was next to impossible, and keeping his body clean was a challenge, too.  At least he remembered enough about the last time he’d been human that he didn’t cut himself too badly shaving.  He managed well enough with a basin of cold water, a small compact mirror he’d gotten at a drug store, a cheap razor from same, and some soap, but he would never again devalue hot running water or regulated heat.

            Finding enough to eat and drink was another issue.  After he’d returned them to the United States, Adam’s first solo flight had been to someplace called “Bumfuck Egypt,” where he’d gone to an ATM and obtained a sum of money that had seemed overly large for Castiel to use for supplies.  He’d spent what he’d needed to buy bus tickets and travel out here, and had still been left with quite a bit.  Most of that, he’d spent on food and to wash his clothing in the coin-operated laundry he’d discovered a few miles away in the town.  But the large supply of ready cash had decreased steadily.  Soon, he’d have to either ask Adam for more or find some other way to get food and do his laundry.

            It was too bad he couldn’t simply forage among the flowers for food, like the bees.

            Castiel would be more than happy to reclaim his Grace and leave his fragile, demanding humanity behind once again.  He was an angel, after all.  Being without his Grace felt much like he’d imagine a human would feel after the loss of their limbs.  But it certainly had its good points.  He’d enjoyed a great deal of food, too much, in fact.  He’d forgotten his first supply run just how far he’d have to carry bags of groceries.  Then he’d been faced with the problem of food storage.  He’d been smart enough not to buy perishables he couldn’t keep.  But when he’d awakened and discovered that, during the night, animals had gotten into his food supply and eaten or ruined nearly all of it, he’d been forced to make another trip the very next day. That was a problem.  The last thing Castiel wanted to do was draw attention to himself.  He’d been doing rounds of the grocery and convenience stores, trying not to patronize one too often and become familiar.  But he’d already seen his own face on news broadcasts and gracing newspapers.  He’d tried to disguise himself by wearing a baseball cap pulled down over his face and rarely spoke.  He was careful not to do anything to draw attention to himself.  But every trip to town was another chance he’d be recognized and reported.

            In fact, he was fairly certain he’d already been reported.  Twice now, he’d spotted police cruisers approaching the hospital and had barely gotten out and into hiding before they’d come in to search. So far, he’d avoided detection. He now stored his food in a cooler that he kept hidden in a dug-out pit behind the hospital, covered with a piece of broken table.  The makeshift bed where he slept could be dismissed as a pile of dirty blankets.  He hid his clothing under more bits of junk. And he’d been careful to take his prized waterproof radio with him when he went out.  But sooner or later, Castiel knew his luck would run out.

            Maybe it was time to move on, find a new place to hide until they could find a way to get everyone back to the right universe?  It was worth considering.

            Castiel was eating a breakfast of a granola bar and a box of raisins when he heard it.  If his radio had been on, he was certain he’d have missed it.  As it was, it took a moment before the soft sound of a boot heel scraping across the uneven floor registered as out of place.  Castiel froze.  He kept himself from turning towards the sound and carefully set the remains of his breakfast aside, getting to his feet.  Someone was here.  Alright. If he indicated that he was aware of the intruder, they would likely attack him.  He needed to get out of the building, get somewhere he could possibly lose the intruder.  His weapon was a comforting weight in its sheath against his wrist.  He just hoped he wouldn’t need it.

            He quickly moved outside, looking around.  Stay calm.  Nothing appeared out of place.  Had he really even heard that?  No, he was sure he had.  Someone was here, someone was after him.  Should he call Adam?  No, he decided, not until he knew who it was that was after him.  He couldn’t risk drawing Adam into a trap!  He needed to get away.  Perhaps if he...?

            A hard body dove into him, driving him to the ground and nearly knocking the wind out of him.  Castiel immediately had his blade in hand, only to have it knocked away by a skillful hit to his wrist that made his hand feel numb for a moment.  He twisted beneath the other body, looked up and into the determined face of Arthur Ketch.  The Englishman was on top of him, his eyes wide and his lips curled into a smile. “Bugger me!” he exclaimed. “You’ve no powers at all, have you, angel?”

            Castiel strained.  “Get off of me!  I’m no threat to you, Ketch, leave me alone!”

            A dry chuckle sounded in his ear.  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

            Castiel looked up at the man’s triumphant grin and understood.  There would be no lovemaking in the flowers, no more watching the bees, no more of Dean’s laugh or his smile.  When he didn’t call tomorrow, Dean would know something was wrong.  But there was nothing Castiel could do for his Righteous Man now.  Adam would have to protect Dean and the others.  He sent out a quick, silent prayer towards the only source of help he might have, asking for help for his friends.  But Castiel knew he couldn’t risk drawing anyone else into Ketch’s trap.

            Meanwhile, if Ketch was going to take him away, Castiel was determined to make it as difficult as he possibly could.  He kicked and struggled frantically and managed to throw Ketch off. For one brief moment, he was free, scrambling to his hands and knees in a desperate bid to run.  But the skilled hunter simply pounced on him again, forcing him back to the ground.  And then an arm cinched tight around his neck.

            A moment later, everything went black.

****

            Arthur Ketch was smiling as he drove.  The fingers of one hand tapped the wheel in time to the music.  On his radio, Etta James was singing “At Last.” It seemed fitting somehow.  _“At last,”_ he sang with the radio.  _“My love has come along!  My lonely days are over, and life is like a song!”_

            His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, took note of the chained, unconscious figure lying on the floor of the van.  The angel was moaning slightly, shifting as came around.  His throat bore the start of bruises.  He’d done that to himself, struggling when Ketch grabbed him and choked him unconscious.  Amazing, to have an angel weak enough that such a thing was even possible!  Then it had been a simple matter to carry him to the van.  But he’d started coming around quickly, started struggling again when Ketch dragged him into the van.  Ketch had to choke him back out to chain him up properly.  That was risky, but worth it.  The angel may not have his Grace, but Ketch wasn’t taking any chances.  Now heavy silvery chains carved with Enochian runes bound the angel’s wrists and ankles, fastened him securely to the floor. Another rune-covered chain was locked around his waist.  The most the angel would be able to manage was getting to his hands and knees like he was attempting now.  He wouldn’t be able to escape, or fight.  And as an added precaution, the inside of the van was liberally covered with wards. Already, the angel was looking around, seeing this.  No, Ketch thought, there was no escaping this time.

            Ketch had his prize.  Now no one and nothing would take that prize from him.  Never before had any Man of Letters captured a live angel, and this one was from another universe!  Even without his Grace, the angel was a rare and valuable acquisition.  If anything, the loss of his Grace meant the angel would be easier to control.  The amount of knowledge that could be gained from a captive angel was immense!  And if Ketch could break him, bring the angel completely under his control and then return his Grace?  What a prize he would have then!  The three monsters from the other dimension, Ketch thought, would probably prove invaluable for the initial breaking.  The angel had been trying all this time to get back to them.  Apparently, there was some sort of attachment there. Ketch could have the humans tortured, maybe even have one or two of them killed?  No one would miss them.  And since the angel wasn’t from this universe, the hosts of Heaven would be unlikely to interfere.  Ketch would be free do whatever he saw fit, whatever it took to break the angel. Then, he could restore the angel’s Grace, creating the perfect weapon against monsters, demons, and even certain rivals.  He could dispatch them without them ever knowing what hit them.  This would make his entire career!

            _“I found a dream that I could speak to, a dream that I can call my own!  I found a thrill to press my cheek to, a thrill that I have never known!”_

            Behind him, the chains rattled.  Then the rattling increased, followed by a harsh cough.  “Let me go!” the angel demanded.  His voice was more harsh than usual, probably from the double chokeholds. “I’m no threat to anyone, and you have no right to take me prisoner!”  The chains rattled wildly, the angel struggling hard against them now. “Release me, Ketch!  _Let me go!_ ”

            Ketch glanced back, looked into a pair of furious blue eyes, and smiled.  _“And here we are in Heaven,”_ he sang along with the radio.  _“For you are miiiiiiine, at last!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed about Sam shutting Crowley down, taking the wind out of his sails. Was amused about Crowley doing that song. Said “ow” when Castiel was remembering his little problem with the bees and Dean. Then made his mad face when Ketch attacked. Said he wants to sing that song when Dean puts one in Ketch’s brain pan. Figured Ketch followed Dean out there, but someone could have also saw Cass shopping, as the cops were out there twice.
> 
> Song Crowley is playing is "Unholy Alliance" by the Scorpions  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUbpc3UYrq0
> 
> Song Ketch is listening to is "At Last" by Etta James  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Q2rZb7E0EY
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Mark Sheppard, the actor who plays Crowley, was a professional musician and does indeed play the drums!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCBAyJpXuCw
> 
> If anyone needs me, I will be hiding in a bomb shelter, waiting for the missiles that I know a couple of readers are about to launch at me...


	27. Self-Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean works to protect the band, but can't shake the feeling that something is wrong with Castiel

            Dean frowned, listening for the third time to the robot voice telling him the number he’d called had no voice mailbox.  “Why the hell isn’t he answering?” he demanded, turning to glower at Adam.  “What’s wrong with my angel?!”

            “I don’t know!” Adam exclaimed.  “He hasn’t said a thing to me, Dean.” 

            The two had been working together, Dean helping Adam with his powers until Dean had been struck with the urge to call Cass.  Now Adam straightened, looking hard at Dean.  “Look, it was tough for me to leave Castiel alone.  I can’t imagine what it was like for you!  And working with me, showing me how to use his powers?  That’s gotta be a little tough on you, buddy.  You sure you’re not overreacting?”

            Dean’s shoulders immediately hunched.  Adam raised his hands and immediately backed off.  “Dude, just saying!”

            “Dean, would you please relax?” Bobby sighed.  “You said Cass is camping out somewhere, right?  Does he have access to electricity?”

            “No,” Dean admitted.  “He told me the first time he texted me that the only place he could find to charge his phone was the laundromat, and he only goes there once or twice a week.  That’s why he texted me, and why he keeps turning his phone off, because he knew he’d have trouble keeping it charged.”  Dean scowled at the phone and shoved it into his pocket.  “Dammit, I...”

            A chorus of protests and a scowl from Adam made him roll his eyes.  “Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult angel kind!” he called.  He’d been working for hours with Adam when he’d stumbled over that particular bit of nonsense.  Now he understood why Cass had said to him what he did.  This universe was so weird.  “Adam, I mean no offense.  But I’m telling you, something is wrong, ok?!”

            “With Cass?”  Blake frowned.  “You think he’s in trouble?  Wouldn’t he have called you or Adam if he was?”

            Dean glanced over at Adam.  He’d had the singer working with a potted plant, causing it to slowly bloom while Dean called Cass.  Adam had immediately come over to check on Dean, concerned after hearing Dean swearing at his phone.  Now he was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, watching Dean have a panic attack over his angel’s failure to connect.

            “Not necessarily,” Dean answered him, scowling as he replaced his phone. “Cass wouldn’t call him if he felt Adam would be in danger.”

            “Me in danger?”  Adam’s brows wrinkled.  “You think the hosts of Heaven found him, did something?”

            “I don’t know!”  Dean was pacing around in the living room, trying to think.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just being paranoid.  Being away from Cass, knowing he’s out there all alone?  It’s doing shit to me, you know?”

            “Yeah, I do,” Blake called gently.  His eyes were watching Dean as he paced.  “Believe me, I do!  But Dean, didn’t you just talk to him an hour ago?”

            “Dean?” Adam began.  “If you’re that worried, we could go check on him?”

            For a moment, Dean was tempted.  But then he remembered the look in his angel’s eyes when he’d insisted Dean leave him behind.  Was something really wrong with Castiel?  Or was it just the deep, aching pain Dean had felt since he’d come into this shelter, looked around, and realized that everyone was here except for his angel? Even Crowley was here, actually working with them for once towards a mutual goal.  But not Cass.  Dean sighed. “Blake’s right, I just talked to him an hour ago.  He’s fine, out there watching the bees.  It’s just hard, him not being here with everyone else!”

            “He should give some thought to coming and joining us,” Rufus offered. “If Adam and Crowley can be here, then there’s no reason a Graceless angel can’t be with us!”

            “It’s a little different with Cass,” Bobby explained.  “The demons might not know Crowley’s here, and we’ve been keeping Adam under wraps.  But the God Mob absolutely knows about Cass!”

            “True.” Rufus shrugged.  “Alright, let’s get back to work.”

            They started in, but Bobby caught Dean’s arm.  He waited until the others were inside and then leaned closer.  “You been keeping an eye on Sammy?”

            Dean nodded.  “I figured it’s going to get to him, what’s happening with Adam.  But so far, so good.  I think Lawyer Sam’s helping him.”

            Bobby’s eyebrow raised.  “You think he knows?”

            Dean considered, and then nodded.  “They’re really close.  And I noticed Lawyer Sam watching him.  I think he knows, that they’re talking about it.”

            “Well thank God for that,” Bobby sighed.  “Because he sure as hell isn’t talking to me!  We can confront him later, make sure he’s ok.  Meanwhile, let’s get down to business.”

            Dean nodded.  He still couldn’t help think that something was wrong with his angel.  But he pushed his nagging concern aside and headed inside to join the others.

            Rufus, it seemed, had prepared for any emergency.  The bomb shelter was loaded down with food, emergency water, blankets, weapons, and written materials.  This last was, of course, what had attracted the attention of Sam’s Club. Sam Squared were already elbows deep in a couple of boxes, rooting through papers.  Crowley was with them, digging through a box of his own, his face frowning in concentration.  On the other side of Sam Squared, Sam Farrar had another box and was busy sorting papers, handing bits to Bobby and Rufus, who were carefully placing them in order on the table.  Dean joined them.  “What’s this?”

            “My stuff, apparently,” Bobby explained, not looking up from his work. “Looks like I kept the same habits in this universe that I did in my own, always making copies of everything. And Rufus stashed it all in here. It’s not Sammy’s library back at the bunker, but it’s a hell of a good start.”

            “I always figured this shit would come in handy someday,” Rufus declared.

            “They why didn’t you keep it in order?” Bobby asked.

            “This is how it was when you stored it here, you old fool!”

            Bobby glowered through is beard at him.  “At any rate, we got our work cut out for us.  Not much research can happen until we get it all organized.”

            “Oh. Ok.”  Dean watched for a moment.  “You, um, got this then?”

            Sam Squared exchanged a look.  “We got this,” they announced in unison.

            “Thanks, Dean, we’re good!” Farrar called, not looking up.

            That was a relief.  Leaving the nerds to their task, Dean moved out to join everyone else.

            Blake waved him over.  “Dean, we’re trying to divide up some tasks here.  We’ve got a bit of traveling to do, and I need your help.”

            Dean rubbed at the back of his neck.  “Actually, Blake, I kind of wanted to stick around, in case Cass calls?”

            Blake rolled his eyes.  “Holy shit, buddy, you’re acting like a schoolgirl with a crush!  Prince Charming will call when he’s good and ready, ok? Mooning over the phone won’t make it ring any sooner!”

            Dean cringed.  “You really think I’m overreacting?”

            “Big time.”  Blake smiled at him.  “Keep your phone with you, but do a bit of work with us, would you?  We need you, and it’ll help take your mind off of it.”

            Dean nodded.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Ok, what do you need?”

            “Well, what would you prefer?”  Blake slipped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, leading him towards where the band waited, divided into two groups.  “We got one group that’s going for cash, and another that’s going to go mail stuff for Lawyer Sam, legal stuff.  Both tasks need to be done far away from here, which means we need Adam for both.” The blue eyes moved doubtfully towards the other room.  “Unless you think we can trust Crowley to help a bit with the transportation?”

            Dean scoffed.  “And leave him alone unsupervised with the band?  Not a chance!”

            “Yeah, didn’t think so.  So basically, Adam’s going to be flying his wings off.  Bobby’s got a plan.  We’ll have Adam drop off one group, go back for the other while they do their thing, bring them out, and then lie low.  When they’re done, he’ll go back for the first, and then go get the second.  And we’re doing it clear out in L. A.!  That should throw off anyone looking for us.”

            “I agree!”

            Blake nodded, looking serious.  “Crowley’s right about one thing, though.  Adam is the one person we need to protect above all else!  So the most important thing is that Adam isn’t seen, no matter what!  We’ll be coordinating everything by the pre-paid cell phones, because the less Adam’s visible, the better.  But that means each group will be on their own without any angelic support for a bit. They’ll need someone with them to watch their backs.”

            Dean straightened with a smile, looking up at Blake.  “So I guard one group, you guard the other?”

            Blake grinned.  “That’s the plan!”

            “Then I’ll take the money.  Sounds more entertaining than some boring legal paperwork.”

            Blake clapped him on the shoulder.  Then he turned to face the band.  “Ok, Mickey, Matt, and Jesse, you’re with Dean here.  James, PJ, you’re with me.  Adam, baby, why don’t you start with Dean’s group, and then come back for me?”

            “Here we go,” Mickey sighed.  “Get ready, bowels!”

*****

            Dean had never seen so much money in one place in his life.  The three musicians had each withdrawn the maximum amount of cash they could get from the ATM, shoving it all into a paper bag that they then, for some reason, shoved at Dean.  Dean felt like he’d just robbed a bank.  “What the hell did you give this to me for?!”

            “Dude, you’re our bodyguard!” Jesse pointed out.

            Mickey nodded.  “Yeah, guard our bodies!”

            “Make a decision here!” Dean exclaimed.  “You want me to guard you guys, or this money?  Because I literally have my hands full here!”

            “He’s got a point, guys,” Matt noted.  “How’s he supposed to fight if he’s carrying the cash?”

            “I don’t know, he’s the bodyguard!”

            “If Dean doesn’t hold the money, who is?”

            “I don’t want it!”

            “Me either!”

            “We seriously gonna walk right down the sidewalk in L.A. with a paper bag full of cash?!”

            “I’d feel better if Dean carried it.”

            “He can’t carry it and still kick ass if someone comes for us!”

            “So who’s carrying it?”

            Dean rolled his eyes and shoved the money at Jesse.  “Here, you’ve just been elected holder of the bag!  And don’t worry, ok?  I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

            Dean expected arguments.  But instead, the three musicians immediately turned trusting eyes towards him.  Even Jesse simply folded down the top of the bag and held it to his chest, looking at Dean for instructions.

            Dean smiled, pleased.  “Ok! Now we got that sorted, how about we hit that drive-through over there, grab some grub, and have a bite to eat while we wait for Adam to come back?  That’s why we went to this ATM, right?”

            Mickey nodded, excited.  “Yeah! You love cheeseburgers, right?  You’ll love the ones this place serves!  I hardly ever get out here to this part of the city, but when I do, I try to come through here.”

            “Sounds good to me!” Matt declared.  “How about we get us some heart attacks in buns?”

            “How about you just come with us instead?”

            All four froze.  Dean tensed, his eyes on the three people walking towards them.  He’d noticed them coming closer, but had thought nothing of it. Now he saw the weapons they carried, hidden in coats or the pocket of the woman’s sweater.  He cursed under his breath.  He’d only been in this universe for just under two weeks, and already he was losing his edge!

            Meanwhile, Matt had stepped slightly before the other two and was pushing them back, moving behind Dean.  Dean turned to address the three newcomers.  “Hey there,” he called.  “You really think you’re going to shoot us right here in broad daylight?”

            “We’ve got silencers, and your bounty is dead or alive, Winchester,” the woman called.  “Just our luck to find you!  Just keep your hands where we can see them!”

            Dean rolled his eyes, his suspicions confirmed.  “What is this, an after-school special?  How old are you three, anyway?  Are you even old enough to drink?  Look, it’s obvious that you have no experience in this, so let me explain a few things to you.”  He indicated their weapons.  “First, silencers don’t actually silence much.  They muffle the sound a bit and prevent it from carrying as far, but it’s still very clearly a gunshot, not a little ‘pop’ sound like you hear in the movies. Second, we happen to be standing between a bank and a fast food place, both of which have cameras pointing in this direction.”  He jerked his head towards the cameras.  “And third, do you have any idea who these three guys are?  You know who Maroon 5 is?  I cannot wait to watch on the news when the coverage of you three kidnapping three members of one of the most famous bands on the planet hits the airwaves! Ketch is going to just love that!”

            Uncertainty spread over the faces of the three young hunters.  One of the males actually flinched when Dean mentioned Ketch’s name.  “We’re not after them, we’re after you!” he declared.  “Getting them’s just gravy!”

            “We’ve got you, Winchester!” the woman agreed.  “Your bounty’s dead or alive!  You can come quietly, or we can carry you back.  Same amount, either way!”

            Dean spread his hands.  “Hey, I’m right here, Lollipop League.  Come and get me!”

            The three exchanged a look.

            That was all Dean needed.  He darted forward, grabbing the weapon of the male in the center.  Meanwhile he brought the heel of his other hand sharply up, smashing the woman’s nose.  She shrieked in pain, dropping her weapon to clutch at her bleeding face.  Dean swung a leg, kicking the legs out from under the second man.  Then he shoved the center man backwards, twisting the man’s wrist to force him to drop his weapon.

            Matt, Dean was pleased to see, had already charged forward, diving on the man Dean had tripped and pounding away.  Mickey joined him.  Dean got a perfect punch in on his current opponent and looked up in time to see that the woman had pulled out a knife and was lunging towards him.  Dean caught her arm as the blade came down.  Then Jesse appeared, coming low to slam into the woman’s knees.  She shrieked again, going down, and Dean quickly knocked her out.

            Dean stood up, looking around.  Matt and Mickey were picking themselves up, their opponent unconscious and bleeding on the ground.  They looked pleased with themselves.  But Jesse was on his knees, pale-faced and shaking as he stared at the woman. “Dude!” he squeaked.  “I just helped beat up a woman!  I’m a feminist!  And a pacifist!”

            “Hunting is equal opportunity,” Dean explained gently, helping him to his feet. “The fact she’s a woman wasn’t keeping her from being about to stab me!  And there’s no shame in trying to defend yourself or others, ok?”

            “No, it’s not ok!”  Jesse’s shaking grew worse.

            Dean sighed.  “Mickey, Matt, we need to get out of here fast.  Those assholes behind us probably already called the cops.  Mickey, you texting Adam?”

            “As we speak.  Jesse, seriously, chill!”

            “Leave him alone,” Dean ordered, putting an arm around Jesse.  “Matt, grab that bag he dropped, would you?  Money’s starting to get blown out of it.  Come on, guys, we need to go!  Jesse, come with me, would you?”

            Sammy was so much better at this.  His brother could talk someone off a ledge in five minutes flat, but he had the unfair advantage of a pair of puppy dog eyes and a gentle way of speaking that Dean couldn’t match.  Still, this was hardly the first time Dean had to deal with someone having a panic attack. Jesse was moving as if in a daze, wide blue eyes staring off into space.  He allowed himself to be hurried off, responding to the pressure of Dean’s arm around his shoulders, but the slender man simply stumbled wherever he was led.

            Dean took his group on a roundabout way, doubling back twice to lose any pursuers, and ended up in a narrow alleyway.  He called out the street name to Mickey, who texted it to Adam, and asked Matt to keep watch for any trouble.  Then he turned his attention to Jesse.  “Hey,” he called.  “Jesse? Look at me, ok?”  When the blue eyes focused, Dean smiled.  “You did real good back there!  I know this isn’t your thing.  Hell, maybe that was the first fight you’ve ever been in your life for all I know!  And once this is all over, you might never have to fight again.  But right now?  The normal rules just do not apply.”

            “I’m aware of that!” Jesse snapped.  The color was returning to his face as his cheeks flushed.  “But I’m not like you, ok?  I can’t do this shit!”

            “I know you can’t and I don’t expect you to,” Dean said calmly.  “That’s what I’m here for, right?  And I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

            “We all will, buddy,” Matt added softly.

            Jesse started shaking again.  “I just want to go home!”

            “Yeah, I know you do.  How about this – what if, when we get back, I show you a few moves, ways you can defend yourself?” Dean offered.  “If I get my way, you’ll never have to use any of ‘em.  But at least, if you know a little bit about what to do?  You won’t feel so helpless!  Would you like that, Jesse?”

            The blue eyes snapped to meet Dean’s.  “You’re going to teach me how to fight?”

            “No,” Dean corrected.  “If there’s fighting to be done, I’ll do it.  I’m offering to teach you how to defend yourself.”

            Jesse mulled it over.  Then he nodded.  “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like that.”  He managed a smile.  “Thanks, Dean.  You’re alright!”

            “Yeah, well, don’t tell too many people,” Dean grumbled, pulling the other man in for a hug.  “I got a reputation to maintain!”

            Out of the corner of his eye, Dean had noticed Matt stiffen and then relax.  Adam had appeared.  The front man’s eyebrows shot up as he took in the sight of his friend embracing the hunter.  But then he noticed the matching smiles on the faces of Matt and Mickey and seemed to relax.  “I take it I missed something?”

            “Just Dean here proving that first impressions aren’t always correct,” Matt announced.  He patted Dean’s shoulder.  “This guy’s not the asshole he tries to pretend he is!”

            “We knew he could fight,” Mickey agreed, “but I really was not expecting him to be a cool guy!”

            “Yeah, Blake says the same thing about him, but I could have told you that myself,” Adam noted.  “Now how about we get out of here before those cops looking for you down the street there spot you?”

            And a moment later, they were back in the bomb shelter.

****

            Dean made good on his offer to teach Jesse some self-defense, extending his offer to the entire band.  They’d dragged several mattresses out to form a makeshift ring and were busy practicing the throws and moves Dean had shown them.  That was useful.  Not only did it mean the band wouldn’t be completely helpless if they were attacked again, but it also gave Dean a chance to assess their fighting skills.  Matt, the drummer, was clearly a brawler and their best fighter.  His muscles were developed from years of drumming, and he seemed to have an instinct for how to throw and block punches.  Dean sparred a bit with him and was pleased.  Mickey also had some decent fighting instincts, but was more of a scrapper. Dean showed him a few dirty tricks that suited his style.  But unfortunately, the fighting abilities of the band largely ended there.  PJ picked up the moves Dean showed them easily enough, but he tended to be slow.  Dean would have to work on his tendency to hesitate.  James was quick, but awkward.  His heart was in the right place, though, and he was throwing himself into practice.  In time, he might be decent.

            The last two were the ones Dean was worried about.  Jesse had some skill with yoga that translated a bit into some martial arts moves.  The smallest member of the group, Jesse wasn’t quite six feet tall, and was so skinny Dean was half afraid to throw him for fear he might snap the musician in half. But out of the group, Jesse was actually the one who picked up the most from Dean’s instructions.  He was quick and agile, as well as determined to learn. The first time he’d thrown Dean, he’d cheered and danced around, extremely pleased with himself.  But every time Dean made an unexpected move on him, Jesse would immediately freeze, looking like a deer in headlights.

            “That’s something you gotta work on, Jesse,” Dean instructed.  “You don’t have a natural fighter’s instinct.  If someone’s coming at you, you can’t think about it.  You need to react and fast.”

            Jesse would nod, chew his lip, and try again.  But he made very little progress.

            As bad as Jesse was, Sam Farrar was even worse.  Farrar was arguably the most intelligent member of the band.  Dean had learned that Farrar could sing and play any instrument in the band.  He’d already seen how good he was with computers.  But when it came to combat training, Farrar seemed all thumbs and two left feet.  Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to master a single move.  “You’re overthinking it,” Dean told him.  “This kind of thing is all muscle memory.  Open up your stance a bit more, bend with your knees, and swing your hips.”

            Farrar tried again to flip Dean, and hissed in pain.  “Dude, you weigh a ton!”

            “If someone comes after you, they’re probably going to be built a lot more like me, not like Jesse,” Dean explained patiently.  “And the problem is that you’re trying to lift me.”

            “Yes, Dean, because I’m trying to flip your oversized ass!”

            Dean let that slide.  “You’re trying to use your strength when you need to use your body mechanics.  Use your hip as a fulcrum, and let my momentum carry me over.  Now let’s try again.”

            They tried again.  This time, Farrar actually did manage to do a clumsy flip.  Dean hoped he’d never have to use the move in a real fight, but the fact that he’d managed to pull it off did wonders for the effects man’s ego, especially when Jesse started dancing around him cheering him on.  “Big daddy goes down!” Jesse whooped, high-fiving his friend as Dean picked himself back up off of the mattress.  “That’s how it’s done!”

            “Well done!” Dean complimented with a smile.  “You want to try again?”

            Farrar got a wicked grin and pointed past Dean’s shoulder.  “I want to see you take on him!”

            Dean looked, spotted Blake ambling over to see what was happening, and groaned. “Aw, come on!  First day we met, he kicked me in the face from the back of a horse!”

            “You want to compare notes, Dean?” Blake challenged.  “Let’s talk about you tying me up in the backseat of your car!”

            “You kept trying to run!”

            “And you handcuffed me to a motel room bed!”

            “Because when we let you loose, you climbed out the bathroom window and I ended up fighting you in the mud!” Dean countered.  “I had to shove us both into the shower!  Oh, shut up,” he grumbled, seeing the wide-eyed looks of the band. “Bottom line is, Blake and I already know how we stand up against each other.”

            “Yeah, I think Dean and I already did enough fighting,” Blake chuckled. “Wouldn’t mind learning how to do that flip, though.”

            “Actually, I think I’ll let Sammy show you and Lawyer Sam,” Dean said, spotting his brother coming over with the lawyer.  “I’m pretty beat, guys.  If you don’t mind, I’m gonna hit the shower.”

            Sammy was happy to take over the training.  Dean quickly excused himself and headed for the shower.  The shelter, according to Rufus, featured a decent sized hot water heater.  The warmth felt great on Dean’s muscles.  But even when he finished and dressed in clean clothes, it did little to warm the coldness in his heart.  Somehow, someway, Dean just couldn’t shake the feeling he’d had all day, that something was wrong with his angel.  Well, Cass had until noon tomorrow to call Dean and let him know he was alright. Otherwise, Dean was going after that idiot, and not even Adam was going to be able to stop him!  _Come on, Cass,_ he prayed silently, knowing full well his angel couldn’t hear him.  _Just please be alright!_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says “He’s not.” Chuckled about how bad most of the band was at fighting, especially Jesse and Sam Farrar. Liked how they fought the “retread” hunters, and how Dean calmed Jesse. It was neat to see Dean talk someone down instead of just being a blunt instrument.


	28. Send Me An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Castiel fails to call, Dean mounts a frantic effort to find him. Blake must face the consequences of a terrible mistake.

             “That son of a bitch knows he’s supposed to call me every day by noon!” Dean yelled. “Every day, by noon, like clockwork! It was the last thing he promised me before I left him!  Every day since I left him alone, he has called me at 11:30.  Now it’s 12:15, and nothing!”

            “Ok, calm down,” Bobby called.  “His phone probably just died, and he’s got to find a pay phone or something to call you. Not so easy this day and age!”

            Dean clutched at his hair.  “I should have gone back out there yesterday.  I knew something was wrong!”

            “Dean, he’s only fifteen minutes late.  Adam didn’t hear anything from him, did you?”

            Adam shook his head.  “I haven’t heard a thing since we parted ways.”

            “Then that should tell you something,” Bobby insisted.  “Sit down and give him some time, at least until Rufus gets back.”

            “Oh, just let him go check up on his precious angel!” Crowley grumbled, exasperated. The demon was seated at a table, surrounded by piles of paperwork and note pads.  “I’ve got a lot of work to do here and he’s very distracting!”

            Dean pointed at Crowley.  “Never thought I’d say this, but Crowley’s got a good idea.  I should go out there, and...”

            “...And seriously piss him off?” Sammy called.  “Dean, I’m glad you two finally got together, but you need to respect his wishes, ok?”

            Dean scowled at his brother and looked around, seeing similar looks on the faces of everyone present.  “Ok, I get how this looks,” he began.  “And I know you’re all thinking I’m overreacting just because I miss him.  I’ll be the first person to admit that’s true!  Yeah, I miss my angel, and I’d already planned on trying again to talk him into coming here, so we can keep everyone protected. And yes, Cass is right about us not being able to fight the God Mob, ok?  But there’s something that you’re missing.  And Blake, you should be the last one to miss it!”

            Blake cocked an eyebrow, seeing Dean’s accusing finger point at him.  “Come again?”

            “I’ll be blunt.  You’re a stupid idiot, Blake!”

            And now everyone was still.  Adam moved to join his husband, and they both were giving Dean looks now.  “You mind explaining that?” Blake asked.  His voice carried more than a hint of warning.

            “Do you remember the night of the first quarter moon, when you almost died?”

            Blake looked suddenly troubled.  “Yeah, Dean,” he said quietly.  “I remember that well enough.”

            “You went outside the bunker that night,” Dean reminded.  “And you looked up at the moon.  You told me you were dying, that you wouldn’t make it to morning, and your biggest worry was that you’d end up in a Heaven without Adam!”

            Paydirt.  He saw both singers stiffen, look at each other.  Their hands reached for each other almost as if on instinct.

            “And you said something else,” Dean continued quickly.  “You said that, back in this universe we’re in now?  Adam was looking up, too, at that same moon!  You even sang a song about it!”

            There was a gasp from Lawyer Sam.  “That song, was it ‘Underneath the Same Moon?’  That night, Adam sang that same song!  A-and he was talking about that same thing, that he was worried, when he died, that he’d be in a Heaven without Blake because they were in two different universes!”

            “Of course he did, because Blake almost died that night!” Dean pressed.  “If it hadn’t been for Sam Squared switching places and Lawyer Sam forcing me to make that deal with Crowley, Blake would not be here today!”

            For once, Crowley kept his mouth shut.  The demon simply stayed as he was, watching.

            Blake slipped his arms around his husband, who shivered and clung to his arms. Blake immediately pulled Adam closer. Adam had gone pale.  He shuddered and turned to bury his face in Blake’s shoulder.  The blue eyes narrowed as the big cowboy looked at Dean.  “You coming to a point here, Dean?”

            “My point is that the reason all that happened, and the reason we could even open that portal that brought us here?  Is because not even another universe can separate a pair of soulmates!” Dean announced.  “You two were so connected that night that you were both singing the same song!  Now Cass and I maybe aren’t quite that connected, because our relationship’s just really getting started.  But you remember how I knew so much about what was happening to him while he was here, Blake?  We’re connected, just like you and Adam are!  And I am telling you, something is wrong with my angel!  I shouldn’t have let anyone convince me otherwise before. I should have gone with my gut, because _something is wrong!_   I know it!”

            Silence, broken only by uneasy shifting as everyone exchanged glances. Even Crowley was frowning.

            Dean felt sick.  “I shouldn’t have left him!  That’s it, I’m going after him!”

            Adam nodded, pulling away from Blake with obvious reluctance.  “Alright.  Let me just...  Hey, wait!”

            Dean had no intention of waiting.  Oblivious to the shouts behind him, he charged outside, racing for Honey. He was dimly aware of figures running out after him, Blake and Sammy, wanting to go with him.  Sammy was already reaching for Honey’s door.  But Dean paid no attention.  He peeled out, the Impala fishtailing wildly as he tore out into the street at breakneck speed.  Cass was in trouble!  And he was all alone, hours away.  Dean never should have let him stay by himself, never should have left him alone. If anything happened to his angel, Dean vowed, he’d never forgive himself.

            “Dean?”

            Dean nearly went off the road.  He glared at Adam, who was sitting calmly in the passenger seat as if he belonged there. “Adam!  The only way Cass wouldn’t have called you is if you’d be in trouble too! I told you that!  So what the hell are you doing here?!”

            “Making sure you don’t kill yourself, driving like a bat out of Hell!” Adam retorted.  “And waiting for you to calm down enough to realize that, wherever you’re going?  I can get you there a lot faster.  Castiel gave me his powers specifically so I could protect you.  That includes keeping you from wrapping yourself around a tree!  Now pull over, would you?”

            Dean pulled over.  He turned and shook his finger in Adam’s face.  “Adam, you are the best chance we have right now of getting through this mess in one piece,” he reminded.  “But if someone came after my angel, and Cass didn’t call you?  That means that whoever took him knew he was an angel and was ready to counter his powers!  And that means they will be ready for you!  You go in there, they’ll grab you for sure!  We can’t risk that!”

            “I know.”  Adam’s voice was remarkably calm.  “That’s why you’re going to direct me to somewhere close.  I’ll get you out there, and you’ll go find Castiel.  And if it’s safe for me, or if you get in trouble?  You call me!”

            Dean clenched his fists.  “I can’t let you risk yourself, Adam!”

            “And I can’t not act to help him, or you.  I promised our angel that I would protect you, and that’s precisely what I intend to do!  Now give me a location, Dean!”

            Dean hesitated a moment longer, looking into the determined hazel eyes. Then he nodded, switched off the ignition, and pulled out the keys.  “Thank you.”

            “Thank me when we help him.  Where is he?”

            Dean nodded and gave Adam an address.

            Adam, Dean decided, needed to work on his flying skills.  Granted, flying in any form had never been Dean’s favorite thing to do.  But flying with angels was typically better than flying in a plane.  Even though he’d never been aware of the actual flight, something he was acutely grateful for, he’d never had a landing this bad.  It was a jolt that made his teeth click painfully together.  He’d known Adam had landed poorly with the band, but had attributed that to how many people Adam had been carrying with him at the time.  Now, by himself, it was even worse.  Dean came perilously close to falling on his ass before he regained his equilibrium and glared at Adam.

            “Sorry,” Adam called, steadying him.  “I know, I suck at flying!”  He was frowning as he looked ahead.  “No sign of Castiel anywhere, but he’s got that tattoo I gave him, so I couldn’t sense him.  Still, I would have thought I’d see something moving in there!  It’s like he disappeared!”

            Dean nodded, his eyes roaming over the location.  “I’ll check it out.”

            “It’s probably a trap, Dean,” Adam warned.

            “Then I’ll see you in Hell!”  He took Adam’s shoulders and pushed him back a step.  “Wait here, let me check things out.  If anyone shows up, you just touch their foreheads, just like this, and you put them to sleep.  Ok?”

            “Ok.”

            “And stay out of sight!  Can you do that?”

            In answer, Adam vanished.

            “Right,” Dean called to the air.  He drew his pistol, made sure his angel blade was handy, and started towards the hospital where he’d last seen his angel.

            The entire place looked deserted.  Ahead, Dean could see the rising walls of the former hospital.  But there was no sign of his angel.  There was no sign of anyone at all.  Dean quickly checked around, went inside, and examined Cass’s temporary home.  His angel’s makeshift bed had recently been slept in.  There were Cass’s clothes still hidden, including the leather jacket his angel had been wearing.  But Cass wasn’t there.

            Dean moved into the other rom.  He found a half-eaten granola bar and part of a box of raisins on the ground.  Checking further out, beyond the confines of the building, Dean saw signs of a struggle.  The ground had been scuffed over a large area.  Here was a boot print that wouldn’t match the boots Cass was wearing. Dean kept looking, saw something flash in the sun, and went to check it out.  To his dismay, it was an angel blade.  The weapon had fallen into a grate, out of his reach.  He’d have to ask Adam to get it.  The fact it was there was ominous.  Cass never would have dropped it by accident.  Something had to have happened.

            Dean kept looking, moving further out into the broken parking lot. Spotting something lying in a heap on the ground, Dean quickly moved to investigate.  And there, lying on the ground like a discarded rag, was a familiar torn, dirty trench coat.

            Dean stared stupidly at it.  Then he picked it up and saw something fall out.  A piece of paper fluttered to the ground.  Dean picked it up and read what was written on it, his lips moving to form the words as he read.  His eyes closed, his hand tightened into a fist, crumpling the note.  _“Ketch!”_ he bellowed.  “You son of a bitch!”

            Dean started blindly running towards the road, and ran right into Adam.  He bounced off of the motionless figure, stumbled backwards, and barely avoided falling.  “Adam!  It’s Ketch, he’s got Cass!”

            “I know, I heard you scream!  That’s why I came over.”

            “Then what the fuck are you doing?!  We gotta stop him, we gotta...!”

            “Dean!”  Adam took Dean’s shoulders and shook him so hard Dean felt dizzy.  “Two things!  First, take a look there.”  He indicated an area to Dean’s left, where two still figures were lying.  “I did what you told me, put them to sleep.  Then I handcuffed them together, just to be safe. They’ll be alright, and won’t remember seeing us.  I think.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking unsure.  “The thing is, they went after you as soon as you went into that building, Dean.  And these weren’t kids or amateurs, either.  Those two are experienced hunters!  You’re right, it was an ambush!”

            “Did they see you, Adam?”

            Adam shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  And I don’t think they knew about me, because I sure surprised the hell out of them. But they were absolutely waiting for someone to come here!  They’ve got guns, handcuffs, something in a syringe...  Dean, they would have taken you!”

            “Whatever, I don’t care!  The only thing I care about right now is Cass!”  Dean grabbed Adam’s jacket and shook him.  “What are you waiting for, Adam?!  We have to find Cass!”

            “I can’t!” Adam exclaimed, easily prying Dean’s hands free.  “I can’t sense Castiel, remember?  I can’t follow him when I can’t even see him!  He’s gotta call me first.  But if he did, I’m not hearing him.  That means either he’s being prevented, or he’s worried that they’ll catch me, like you said.  Since these assholes didn’t seem to know about me, I’m betting it’s Door Number One, Dean!  Which means, wherever they took him, it’s going to be covered in angel wardings!  I couldn’t get near it even if I knew where it was, but I don’t know where Cass is, or how many people are with Ketch, or even if it’s Ketch!”

            “It’s Ketch!”  Dean shoved the note at Adam.  “He says he won’t kill Cass so long as we bring him what he wants.”

            “‘The angel’s Grace, along with any and all entities from the alternate reality,’” Adam read.  “Yeah, that’s why those guys were here, Dean, for you!  It’s just like I told you!  Ketch killed you in this reality, and now he wants you again!”

            “And you, Adam!  He wants Cass’s Grace, which means he wants you!  And if we don’t give him what he wants, then Cass...!”  Dean couldn’t finish.  He simply stood as he was, shaking, hands clutching at his hair as he tried to contain his emotions enough to think.  Adam was still and quiet, looking at him.  It seemed as if Adam was waiting for instructions.  But Dean didn’t have any to give him.  The hunter felt as if he was lost and adrift on an ocean, searching desperately for an anchor.  Castiel, gone?  He’d only just found his angel, just admitted his true feelings and received Cass’s love in return!  Now to have him taken away was just too cruel.

            “Dean?” Adam prompted softly.  “Tell me what to do, alright?”

            Dean shook his head and forced himself to focus.  _Calm down, Winchester,_ he ordered himself.  _Treat this like any other case.  If this wasn’t your angel, if it was just a random person, what would you do?_   “Bobby,” Dean announced aloud.  “Get us back to the car, Adam, and I’ll take us to Bobby.  We need to figure out what the hell we’re gonna do!”

            “Alright.”

            Another bone-jarring landing, and they were back at Honey.  Dean climbed in, letting the familiar aspects of Lawyer Sam’s Impala help calm him, slow his racing heart.

            “You want me to drive?” Adam asked, watching him with concern.

            Dean shook his head.  “No, just... Just give me a moment.”  Dean took a deep breath.  Then he started the car.  _Hang on, angel,_ he thought.  _I’m coming for you!_

****

            Blake was the first one out the door when the Impala’s familiar engine announced Dean’s return.  But his heart sank when he saw only two figures inside.  It sank even further when he realized that Adam was driving, while Dean sat, slumped, in the passenger seat.  Dean not driving Honey?  Blake couldn’t imagine a worse sign.  He stayed as he was, letting Sam Squared run forward, gently help a distraught Dean out. Blake’s stomach churned.  He looked at Adam without much hope, saw his husband shake his head.

            Then all Blake could see was stars.  _“You bastard!”_ Dean was roaring between blows.  “My angel! Ketch took my angel!  I knew something was wrong, and you kept insisting I was overreacting!  Now Cass is gone!  He’s _gone!”_

            Blake’s ears were ringing.  He shook his head and got up dizzily with some help from the band.  Adam had dragged Dean off, the hunter fighting and screaming and still trying to get to Blake as Sam Squared tried frantically to calm him. “Fuck me,” Blake groaned.  _“Fuck_ me!  You were right.  This is my fucking fault!”  He shook his head, brushing off the protests and the hands of the band and moving closer to Dean, indicating that Adam should let him go.

            Dean immediately attacked Blake again, but this time Blake was ready.  He grabbed the devastated hunter and held him in a tight hug.  “Dean, I’m so sorry, buddy!” he soothed as Dean struggled.  “What you said about soulmates, that was absolutely right and I, of all people, should have thought about it!  It’s my fault!”

            Dean had stopped fighting.  His knees buckled and Blake gently went down with him, going on his knees as Dean sagged against him.  Dean didn’t cry, didn’t make a sound.  He simply went limp.  And somehow, that only made it worse.  Blake held him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut.  “I fucked up,” he admitted.  “Once I had Adam back and thought Cass was safely hidden away, I stopped thinking! I should have listened to you, should have let you go check on him...  Hell, I should have gone and checked him myself!”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know how, Dean, but I swear to you, I will find a way to make this right!  I’ll get your angel back, I swear it!”

            Dean was like a ragdoll.  Sam Squared gently pried Dean away from Blake, getting him to his feet.  By now, Bobby had run out and had his arms around Dean, frantically whispering to him as he drew the younger man into the shelter. Dean moved as if in a daze, not looking anywhere, going where he was led.  And the sight of the powerful, fiery hunter looking so broken and lost broke Blake’s heart.

            Blake buried his face in his hands.  Adam was there, on his knees next to Blake.  He quickly healed the injuries Dean had just given Blake and then pulled Blake into his arms.  “It’s not your fault,” Adam said quietly.

            “The hell it’s not!”  Blake clenched his fists.  “I’m going to fucking murder Ketch if he hurts so much as a single feather on Castiel!”

            “We’ll get him back.”  It was James. He and Jesse were standing in front of Blake and Adam.  “Come on, Blake,” James urged.  “Fall apart later, buddy!  We need you now, ok?”

            Adam was peppering Blake’s face with gentle butterfly-like kisses.  “He’s right, Big Country,” he said.  “We need your strength right now!”

            Blake had difficulty believing anyone would be willing to rely on him for anything, not after his spectacular, horrific mistake with Cass.  But as he got to his feet and looked at the group gathered around him, he saw the trust in their eyes.  They were all looking expectantly back at him.  What were they waiting for?  He shook his head.  Then he headed into the shelter.

            “What’s going to happen to Castiel?” PJ wanted to know.  The keyboardist was pacing in a small tight circle, his hands clenched and his face pinched with worry.  “What the hell is that son of a bitch going to do to our angel?!”

            “Keep him, and try to find a way to leash him,” Rufus grumbled.  “Ketch is going to want to study him first, see what he can learn.  But his end game is always control.  He won’t kill Castiel, not so long as he believes there’s any chance he might be able to bring an angel to heel!”

            Blake looked for Dean and saw him, sitting slumped between Sam Squared, still staring off into space.  A hand lowered a bottle of beer into Dean’s line of sight and Blake was surprised to realize it was Crowley.  “Drink up, Dean,” the demon said quietly.  “Do what you need to do to take the pain away.”

            Dean warily accepted the bottle.

            Blake was looking at Bobby, but was surprised to see that the grizzled old hunter was looking at him.  Rufus, sitting next to him, was looking at Blake as well.  And a quick glance around the room confirmed that, except for Dean, every single eye was on Blake.  Blake couldn’t believe it.  He was about to protest, but then he remembered what James had said.  Well, shit.  Fine.  If everyone was going to look to Blake as the leader, even though he had to be the last person qualified, then Blake supposed he had no choice but to act like one.  He cleared his throat.  “Adam?” he called.  “Could you please tell us what happened, what y’all found?”

            Adam told the story, ending with his returning with Dean to Honey.  He didn’t go into Dean being so upset he couldn’t even drive the Impala, for which Blake was grateful.  But the implication was right in the open.  Blake forced himself to look at Dean, saw the green eyes staring back at him.  They looked completely devoid of hope.  This was the same man who had threatened to punch Blake in the face when he’d learned that Blake and the band had made bets on if Dean would be top or bottom with Castiel. The same hunter who’d battled vampires and ghosts and demons.  The man who had risked himself to save Blake, and ended up trapped in another universe because of it.  The friend who’d trusted Blake.  Blake forced his guilt down, forced himself to think as the room again grew quiet and everyone looked at him.  “Crowley,” he called, already knowing he’d regret it.  “You look like you got something on your mind, so why don’t you take the floor?”

            Crowley nodded.  Then he turned to address the group.  “I’m sure, at this point, you’re all very aware of my history with Castiel,” he began. “But you may be equally aware that, above all else, I value my own hide.  After all, it’s precisely the reason I came to you in the first place! But need I remind everyone that, tragic as this may be, the clock is still ticking.  Unless we can find a way to reopen a portal and get those of us who don’t belong here back to our own universe on the next full moon, we’ll all be stuck here for another lunar month!  And as recent events prove, the longer we are here, the greater our risk of being captured by Ketch and his lot.  Even those of us who aren’t from another universe are in some degree of danger, as three of the band can testify from yesterday!”

            “What’s your point, Crowley?” someone called.

            “My point, gentlemen, is that nothing has changed!”  Crowley clasped his hands behind his back and straightened, narrowing his eyes at the group.  “Our primary objective must remain the same.  We need to continue our research to open this portal!  The loss of one man, or even an angel, simply cannot interfere!”

            “I’m not giving up on our angel!”

            “Me, either!”

            “We gotta find a way to get him back!”

            “Rufus, there’s gotta be something you can do, right?”

            “Yeah, you’re part of these assholes!”

            “Oh, for pity’s sake!” Crowley exclaimed.  “There’s no reason you cannot do both!  You can try to find our missing angel while we continue to focus on the spell. But this spell must remain our top priority, even if it means we delay the search for Castiel in order to focus on obtaining a component!”

            Yells, curses, and insults filled the room.

            Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose.  “What, exactly, do you expect will happen should you rescue Cassie, hmm?  I found the entire idea of bringing him here to be inexcusably foolish, but kept my peace to avoid causing precisely this sort of fuss.  Have you never heard the expression about not putting all your eggs in one basket?!  And along with every angel, demon, hunter, monster, and God alone knows what else?  We know that, from the beginning, Ketch was after your precious angel!  Now, the one person here that we must protect above all others is Adam!  And now we have proof that Ketch has not yet figured out that Cassie’s shiny Grace has been stuffed up into Adam.  But you said yourself, Blake, that Ketch knows Adam’s been altered in some way, yes?”

            Blake reluctantly nodded.

            “Exactly how long do you anticipate that our luck will continue?” Crowley pressed. “How long do you expect it will be before Ketch catches on to exactly how it was that money was withdrawn at one location and legal paperwork was mailed at another hundreds of miles apart, especially if he had Castiel under his control during that time?  And has anyone stopped to consider just how it was that our people got ambushed?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you have Adam drop off and pick up the groups from secluded areas, precisely to avoid the chance of his being seen?  How is it, do you suppose, that hunters just happened to be watching the ATM machines clear across the bloody continent?! Somehow, Ketch figured out what you would do, and planned ahead!  He obviously didn’t anticipate that the band would be protected, or he wouldn’t have sent novice hunters.  But the fact is, he had hunters waiting at that ATM, hundreds of miles away!”  He looked around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Ketch is one step ahead of us, gentlemen, and has been from the start!  Frankly, I consider it a miracle that Ketch hasn’t already realized the truth! He’d be a fool to not realize by now that you have access to an alternative supernatural means of travel!”

            “We’ll just tell him we’ve got a demon.”

            Crowley didn’t bother seeking out the speaker.  He simply spread his hands.  “Be my guest,” he offered.  “We already know that Mr. Ketch expects and has ways of countering the power of an angel. Right now, you have in your midst a demon.  While someone capable of countering the powers of an angel should have little trouble countering my own, might I remind you that, if Ketch focuses all of his efforts on combating an angel?  How much do you think he’s devoting towards combating a demon?  And don’t forget the reason I’m here! As well as being a powerful demon, I am also skilled at witchcraft!  Do you think Ketch would be prepared to counter that?”

            “No, he’s right!” Blake called as the yelling started again.  “As much as it pains me to admit, Crowley is right. Ketch doesn’t know about Adam, although he already knows something’s up with him, thanks to me.  But as far as we know, he’s got no idea about Crowley!”

            Crowley’s lips curled into a smile as the group stilled.  “Gentlemen, in my line of work, that is referred to as an ace up the sleeve.  I am the one factor in all of this that Ketch is not accounting for, and will remain such for as long as he remains unaware of my presence!  So, if you’d like to simply toss off that advantage?  By all means, have a chat, tell him all you wish of me! I’ll wait.”

            Silence.  Sam Squared was looking at Crowley with murder in their eyes.  Bobby was scowling into his beard.  Rufus was pinching his lips.  Even Dean was looking up at the demon.

            Blake glowered at Crowley over crossed arms.  “You’re a bastard,” he informed Crowley, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not right.”

            “It also doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for anything,” James added.  “I say we bring Cass back here once we find him!”

            “Thing about putting all your eggs in one basket?” Jesse called.  “It’s fine, so long as you watch that basket!”

            “I agree,” Blake said.  “If our angel’s here with the rest of us, he might even be able to help you with this stupid spell, Crowley.  Because you’re right about that, too!  It won’t do us much good to save Castiel if we don’t have any way of getting him safely back to his own universe!  So what’s your plan?”

            Crowley beamed.  “Finally, someone asks the born leader for a plan!”  He clapped his hands together.  Then he indicated Sam Squared.  “Adam is the most important member of this group, but the two of them are close second.  With them, I’ve already come up with several potential spells we can modify for our purposes.  But there’s one thing they all have in common – they all require the use of a powerful hex bag.  Now, since we’re without the original, we’re going to have to...”

            “Hold it!”

            Blake looked over and saw Lawyer Sam looking hard at Hunter Sam.  “Sam,” he asked, “is that the same coat you were wearing the night I switched places with you?”

            Hunter Sam nodded.  “Yeah, why?”

            In answer, the lawyer immediately dug his hand into the hunter’s pocket and produced a familiar plastic bag.  “Because I put it in your pocket!  You want a powerful hex bag, Crowley?  How’s this one?  If it was enough to send Blake to your universe, I’m betting it’s enough for whatever you’ve got in mind now!”

            The demon’s eyes gleamed.  He quickly took the bag and opened it, digging through the contents.  “We’ll have to come up with another cover, but beyond that...?  Yes, this will do nicely!  Except, of course, for this.”  He produced the coin with the draining sigil that had apparently caused all the trouble with Blake.  “Since we don’t want a repeat of the last time this hex bag was used to send someone to another universe, we’re going to need a replacement power source.  And that, I’m afraid, may prove difficult.” He smiled.  “Of course, if your friendly neighborhood King of Hell were to assist, it would go much easier.”  He indicated his notebook.  “Based off of the information Mr. Turner kindly provided from the late Mr. Singer, I created a list of potential objects we could use, as well as where to start looking for them.  Given a bit of free rein and a great deal of luck, I imagine I could find something suitable by the end of the week!”

            “Good idea,” Blake called before anyone else could speak.  “Adam, why don’t you go with him?  Just to make sure he stays on target!”

            Blake was delighted to see Crowley’s smile instantly vanish.  “I don’t need a sidekick.”

            “Then we’ll just call you my bitch,” Adam declared.  He moved up and put his arm around Crowley’s shoulders, grinning at him.  “So! Where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun yelled at Dean for beating up on Blake because it wasn’t Blake’s fault. Loved it when Crowley got the wind knocked out of his sails, twice! “Excellent!” Admits he forgot about the stupid hex bag being right in Sammy’s pocket. Says they should use Ketch’s soul as a power source. “Tear it right out of his stupid face!”


	29. Cass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A distraught Dean gets a welcome visitor, and makes a fateful decision. Bobby and Rufus get a surprise in the morning. Everyone gets a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this is not the end of the series. When I realized that the final part was over twice the length of the other two, I made the decision to divide it in half and make this a four-parter. At least this way, it's manageable! There won't be a gap between this and the next part, as I intend to post the first chapter of part four tonight, just to remove any confusion. Thanks for sticking with me this far, and hope you stick around until the end!

_“Dean?”_

_“Cass?”_

_“Dean!  You’ve been calling me.”_

            Of course Dean had been calling him.  He’d been longing for Castiel with everything in him.  _“I need you angel!”_

_“Where are you?”_

            Dean was at the old hospital, and he was searching eagerly for his angel. “Cass!” he called.  “I’m here!  Where are you, buddy?”

            Ah, there he was.  His angel was walking towards him, the familiar trench coat and tie ruffled slightly by the breeze as he approached.  Cass’s hair was its usual mess, but his blue eyes were shining as he looked at Dean.  “The Righteous Man,” he called.

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah. C’mere!”

            Dean reached his angel in a few rapid steps, and immediately drew Cass into his arms.  His mouth sought Cass’s eagerly, pressing hungrily.  Cass gave a little gasp, and Dean immediately slipped his tongue into the angel’s mouth.  But to his surprise, Cass turned his head away and quickly took a few steps back. “Wh-why are you doing this?”

            Dean frowned.  “What do you mean, why am I doing this?  Kissing you? Because I want to!”

            The angel’s head tilted to the side.  “But why?”

            “Why what?”

            “Why do you want to kiss me?”

            Dean’s frown deepened.  “I don’t know, maybe because I’m in love with you and I can’t get enough of you?  Cass, what’s wrong, angel?”

            “Nothing,” Cass replied, too quickly.  His eyes were flickering around.  His tongue licked his lips.  “You like kissing me?”

            “I like doing a lot of things to you.  But you know that!”  Dean narrowed his eyes, studying his angel without letting him go.  “Something happened, didn’t it?  After I left?  What is it? What’s wrong?”

            “I’m alright.”

            “No, you’re not,” Dean corrected.  “The last time I saw you, we were all over each other!  Now you’re asking me why I’m kissing you?”

            His angel was still watching him.  “Dean, I need to know.  Are you attracted to me?”

            “Of course I’m attracted to you?”

            “Are you?” the angel pressed.  He spread his hands, indicating his body.  “Is it me you want, or this vessel?”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Cass, I met Jimmy Novak, and there wasn’t anything there!  It’s you I want, not your vessel!  We’re soulmates, remember?”  He reached for Cass’s hands, pulled his angel a step closer and looked into his eyes.  “Now what’s wrong?”

            Cass quickly looked away and shook his head.  “Nothing.  I’m alright.”

            Dean scoffed, holding tight to his angel’s hands as Cass tried to gently pull away.  “You’re anything but alright!  Talk to me, Cass.  What happened?” 

            Cass didn’t reply.  He just pulled until Dean let go of his hands.  Then he wrapped his arms across his chest and pinched his lips.  His blue eyes looked troubled.

            Dean shook his head, turned slightly, and slipped his arm around Castiel’s waist, drawing him forward.  “You know what, tell me in the car.  Something’s obviously wrong!  I’m getting you out of here, and this time, I’m not letting you talk or guilt me out of it!”

            “Dean?”

            “What?”

            “Kiss me again.”

            Dean blinked.  Cass was stalling, obviously not wanting to have another fight or be forced into the car. Dean was about to argue.  But then Cass looked at him with those blue, blue eyes and Dean nodded.  He slid one hand up the back of Cass’s neck to cradle the angel’s head and gently kissed him.  “What’s wrong, angel?” he asked softly.

            Cass’s answer was to kiss him back, leaning into Dean and holding him tightly. For a moment, Dean gave in, returning kiss for kiss.  But then he ducked his head.  “Cass? Talk to me.”

            His angel gently pried Dean’s hands off.  Then he turned and walked away a bit, seeming to collect his thoughts.  “I want to be sure.  If I wasn’t in this vessel, would you still want me?”

            “Yes!” Dean replied without hesitation.  “But why wouldn’t you be in your vessel?  It’s perfect for you, because it’s empty!  I know you felt guilty about Novak, but now he’s not in there. That’s all you!”  He frowned.  “Why do you keep asking me about your vessel?”

            “Because I needed to know, Dean.”  Cass was so serious.  “I needed to know, if I wasn’t in the vessel you’re used to, if you’d still want me.”

            That hurt a bit.  Dean took his angel’s face between his hands and gently kissed him again.  “Cass, I would want you no matter what vessel you were in,” he vowed.  “It’s you I want, my angel!  Now tell me what’s wrong, and why you’re so worried about your vessel!”

            “Dean, I...”  Cass licked his lips again.  “I need your help.”

            Dean stiffened.  “What do you need?”

            “Let me in.”

            For a moment, Dean’s mind went straight into the gutter.  He opened his mouth to say he’d let Cass in any time he wanted.  Then his brain caught up and he understood that Cass wasn’t talking about sex.  “Let you in?”

            “I’m in trouble, Dean.”  Cass’s face was serious now.  “I need your help!”

            “I’m here!” Dean exclaimed.

            But Cass was shaking his head.  “No, you’re not.  I don’t know where you are, Dean!  I can hear you calling me, but I can’t see you.  I can come to you if you tell me where you are.  But when I do, I need you to let me in!”

            For a moment, none of that made sense.  And then Dean sucked in his breath.  “I’m not really here,” he realized.  “I’m dreaming.  And you’re not at the hospital, either!  We went out there, and you were gone!  Ketch took you away!”  He clutched at the lapels of Cass’s coat.  “Where are you?  Tell me where you’re at, and I’ll burn through everything and anyone in my way to get to you!”

            Cass sighed.  “Dean?”

            “Wait a minute,” Dean realized.  “How are you doing this?  Cass, you don’t have your Grace, so you’re basically a human!  You can’t come to me like this!  I’m not even sure how you’re even doing this, unless...”  He sucked in his breath, and then sat down with a groan on a rusting iron bench.  “Cassiel! Even after what you did, Cassiel’s still being drained, isn’t he?”

            Cass nodded, looking unhappy.  “It’s slowed. It’s going to take weeks, maybe as much as another month.  But yes. It’s still happening.”  He came over to Dean and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, looking him in the eye.  “I’m in trouble, Dean, and I need your help.  Please, help me?”

            Dean nodded.  “Tell me what to do.”

            “I did!  Tell me where you are, and then let me in!”

            “Let you...?”  Dean blinked, suddenly remembering his angel’s earlier questions about his vessel. “Y-you want to come into me, like, possess me, use me as your vessel?  Leave Jimmy Novak’s body behind and jump into me?  But what about your vessel?  You’re going to need it when we go home, buddy!  You can’t just stay in me!”

            “Dean, if you don’t let me in now, it’s not going to matter!”  Cass’s eyes were pleading now.  “I don’t have much time.  I’m being chased, Dean, and this is the last option that I have!”

            “Chased?!  So you’re trying to hide in me?”

            Cass nodded.  His eyes were pleading.  “You’re already hidden from the hosts of Heaven.  You’ve got a powerful vessel, one that can easily contain me.  And I desperately need you to do it!  Please, let me in!”

            Dean hesitated.  He was all too aware that his body was one of the few on his version of Earth that could contain an angel.  He and Sammy had bodies that were extra special, capable of containing an archangel. That was something John Winchester had unwittingly passed to his sons.  It was precisely why Michael had wanted Dean.  Dean had refused then.  He knew that not even Michael or Lucifer could possess a human without their consent. He also knew what Jimmy Novak had told him.  When the hosts of Heaven had taken Cass away for some sort of retraining that Cass always refused to speak about, Dean and Sam had gotten to meet Jimmy Novak.  The man had been very devout and had initially agreed, but after Cass had taken him, he’d been desperate to get away.  He’d described being possessed by Castiel like being chained to the tail of a comet.  Novak had only agreed to be taken again because Cass’s enemies had come for his family, and Cass had taken his daughter to fight them.  Novak had insisted that Cass return to him to free his daughter.  The man had never been free again, and had eventually gone to Heaven after his body had been destroyed for the first time.  Dean knew Cass felt guilty about the whole thing, and as a result had done his best to look after Novak’s family.  But that was the nature of angels, not something Cass could really change. He needed a human vessel in order to be on Earth.  If Jimmy Novak had refused him, it would have been someone else.

            It still wasn’t something Dean was keen to personally experience.

            But this was Cass.  Cass was in danger!  He was being chased, and he needed Dean.  Cass was just a regular angel.  If Dean’s body could accommodate an archangel, then surely he could hold Cass without too much difficulty!  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?  But really, it wasn’t a hard decision.  His angel needed him.  Dean nodded. “Alright.  Come and get me.”  He rattled off the address of the modified bomb shelter they were staying in.

            Cass brightened.  “Is that a yes?  You’ll let me in?”

            “Yes.  Yes!”

            Dean woke up with a gasp and blinked in the darkness.  All around him were snores, nearly a dozen men sleeping on every surface in the shelter.  He’d been sleeping in one of the coveted beds, the only twin in the shelter. Judging from the darkness outside, it wasn’t yet dawn. 

            But now there was a light.  A silvery, amorphous form hovered outside the window.

            Dean bounded up, kicking free of the blankets.  The duplicate versions of his brother were camped out on the floor on either side of him.  Sam Squared had been waiting on him all evening, all but forcing him to lie down last night.  No surprise they were still there.  Dean stepped over the Sam in his way, picked his way through the shelter and went outside, moving out of the line of wards.

            The light was still there.  Dean sucked in his breath, remembering for a moment Castiel saying that someday he’d like to love Dean in his true form.  Was this what he meant?

            The light moved to Dean and then paused, as if questioning.

            “Yes, angel,” Dean whispered, reaching towards the familiar essence. “Yes!”

            It shot forward, passing into him.

            Shock.  Cass had told them that his true form was the size of the Chrysler building.  At the time, Dean hadn’t been sure if he could believe it, but now Dean thought Cass had been too conservative.  The angel was massive, impossibly so.  It spread out, moving through him, light wrapping around Dean like a warm, comforting blanket.  It was amazing.  That familiar, loving presence gently holding him, moving him back...

            Wait.  Dean finally realized that the light was somehow spreading through him, and everywhere it spread, he, Dean, was withdrawing.  It was taking over and, to Dean’s alarm, forcing Dean back into his own mind.  _“Cass, don’t!”_ he called.  _“Don’t push me down.  Work with me, don’t take me over!”_

            _“Shhh, quiet, Dean.  It’s alright.  I would never hurt you.”_

            _“Hey, don’t shush me!  Come on, stop pushing me down!”_

            But the angel paid no attention.  There was nothing Dean could do to stop it.  It was the most gentle possession imaginable, the light cradling him even as it was steadily forcing him further and further down until finally Dean had no control at all.  His body took a deep breath and then another, seeming to taste the damp night air.  It moved forward, heading away from the door and walking, barefoot, into the night.  What the hell?  Where were they going?  Dean tried to struggle, to move forward again and regain control.  But he was caught like an insect in a giant web, the light easily holding him still, caressing him without giving so much as an inch.

            _“Cass?  Come on! Don’t do this to me!  Don’t lock me in!”_

            _“Shush, Dean, it’s alright.  I need to take control.  Just be quiet, be still.”_

            But Dean was frightened now.  He couldn’t believe this was happening, that his angel, his Castiel, would simply shush him and take him over like this!  Dean knew his heart should be hammering in his chest.  But instead, his heartrate was steady, calm and even.  If he needed any further proof that he’d been completely pushed aside, this was it.  And now he could feel the angel’s presence withdrawing!  Alright.  Something was clearly wrong here, but it did him no good to panic.  Just try to talk to him.  Cass had to talk to him.  He couldn’t just pull away like he was doing and leave him trapped here!  _“Where are you taking me?”_ he ventured, still trying to struggle.  _“It’s the middle of the night, and I’m in my underwear!  At least put some clothes on me, some shoes on my feet?”_

            _“Shhhh, don’t fight.”_   Cass seemed to be further back.  _“Your vessel has all the protection it needs.  We’ll talk soon.  For now, just be still.”_

            Dean couldn’t believe it.  Cass was withdrawing, while he remained trapped as he was.  The cocoon of light was still wrapped around him, but the angel was pulling away from him, fully taking over Dean’s body while shutting Dean’s awareness even further down.  Now Dean no longer had access to any of his senses.  He simply hovered where he was, surrounded by light.  And no matter how gentle, how warm and loving that light was, it was still trapping him.  _“Cass?  Cass! Stop!  Let me out!  Please, just stop!”_   Alarmed, Dean tried again to struggle, but found he couldn’t move.  Nothing about any of this was making sense.  And now the panic was rising.  Dean knew he wasn’t in any danger.  This was Castiel, his angel, and Cass would never hurt him. Even now, it felt as if the light was somehow hugging him, rather than just restraining him.  But somehow, that made it even worse.  The thought that his angel could do this to him, render him so helpless in his own mind?  The panic took over, Dean straining and fighting with all he had in him.  _“Cass! Don’t do this!  Let me out!  You’re scaring me, buddy, please let me out!”_

            But the angel, if he heard, gave no sign, and not even Dean’s best efforts could get him out of the trap he was in.  Dean didn’t understand.  Why, why would Cass do this to him?

****

            Bobby opened his eyes and sat up with a groan, a pop of his back, and a burst of flatulence.  From where he’d apparently slept, over in the corner of the room, Rufus groaned. “Thanks a lot!  You think I want to smell that first thing in the morning?!”

            “Better than your breath blowing back in your face,” Bobby grumbled.  He managed to climb out of the stiff, uncomfortable bed he’d slept in last night with a few more joint pops.  Then he casually raised one leg and let fly.

            Rufus swore.  He got up with as many popping joints as Bobby had and moved to the window.  He quickly opened the window and began fanning a hand, his face set in a deep frown of disgust.  “I liked you better when you were dead!”

            “Yeah, well, same here!  You were a hell of a lot less bitchy dead!”

            “And at least you smelled better!”

            Bobby didn’t dignify that with an answer.  He scratched at his armpit, starting towards the door.  But when he opened it, Dean was standing right there. Bobby startled.  “Balls!  Dean, what the hell are you doing, boy?!  Get your ass back outta my way!”

            Dean smiled.  “Of course, I’m in your personal space.  I’m sorry.” He took two steps back, leaving Bobby about two feet of space.  “I’m glad you’re awake.  I need to speak with you.”

            Bobby eyed the space and looked up at Dean.  Then he casually shut the door in Dean’s face.

            Rufus was watching with narrowed eyes.  “Any chance he’s just drunk?” he asked quietly.  “It’s early, but still...?”

            “Normally, I’d say yes, but I don’t think so.”  Bobby’s voice was low.  He moved closer to Rufus.  “Did you see his feet?”

            “Not around your fat ass!”

            “Well, they were dirty and grass stained,” Bobby reported.  “Looked to me like he’s been out walking with no shoes on. Do I need to tell you that ain’t Dean, not any more than what he just did back there is?”

            “I see.”  Rufus’s face was stern.  He nodded slightly to Bobby, casually moved to his pack, and produced a flask, which he uncapped and passed to Bobby.

            “Dean?” Bobby called, opening the door.

            Dean was still where he’d just been.  He was still smiling, although it appeared a little strained as he eyed Bobby with a cocked head.  But he paused, blinking, as Bobby dashed holy water into his face.  “I don’t understand.  Was that appropriate?”

            “Sure was!” Bobby assured, reaching back for what Rufus was handing him next. Then he made a quick slash at Dean’s arm.

            Dean frowned, looking down at his arm.  “That was absolutely not appropriate!  Why did you cut me?”

            “Making sure you’re not a shifter!  That was a silver dagger.”

            Dean was still frowning at his arm, seeming to watch the blood well in the cut. “Very well.  Are you satisfied now, or am I in for more testing?”

            “You’re ok for now.”  Bobby was frowning.  He heard Rufus come up behind him, ready to back him up.  But for now, Bobby had no idea what he was dealing with.  “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and make breakfast, Dean?” Bobby said.

            Dean blinked.  “Breakfast? I’m not so sure that’s...”

            “Pancakes!” Bobby ordered.  He took Dean’s arm, physically turning the frowning younger man and shoving him towards the kitchen.  “Make a nice big stack of those famous pancakes you make so well!  Rufus hasn’t tasted ‘em yet.”

            Dean was frowning.  “But I can’t...”

            “Bye, Dean!”  Bobby shoved the door shut, leaned against it, and looked at Rufus.  “I don’t know what that is, but it ain’t Dean!”

            “So what the hell is he?” Rufus wanted to know.  “And how’d he get past the wards?”

            “Only thing I can figure is, that idjit must have gone outside at some point during the night,” Bobby theorized.  “Soon as he got past the wards, something got to him.  I just don’t know what!  Dean’s too smart to fall for the usual bullshit, and anything out of the ordinary, he’d have woke us up for.”

            “I see.”  Rufus was busy dressing and putting on his weapons.

            Bobby did the same.  Then he quickly stopped by a table, where he’d been looking at a journal his other self had composed last night.  “I’m hoping that Other Me may have seen something like this.  Believe it or not, it’s hard to remember that I’m in another universe.  I may be dealing with a monster that doesn’t even exist in my universe!”

            “Don’t buy trouble,” Rufus advised, leaning over to read over Bobby’s shoulder.

            “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of wish Crowley was here,” Bobby sighed.  “At least that smarmy bastard might have known what we were dealing with here!”

            “Personally, I’d feel better if Adam was here,” Rufus grumbled.  “Then we’d at least have someone who could...”

            The shrill sound of an alarm echoed through the bomb shelter as the smoke alarm went off.  The two men looked up in surprise just before the sprinkler systems kicked in, dousing the them both with water.

            “Balls!”  Bobby stormed out to the kitchen, leaving a cursing Rufus to try to reset the fire suppression system.  Yells and curses announced the rude awakening of everyone else in the shelter as Bobby stormed in to confront Dean.  What the hell had that idjit done?  He’d barely had time to mix the batter!

            Of course, it seemed like maybe Dean might have other resources available to him now than he normally would.

            Dean was standing in front of the stove, frowning at the box of pancake mix in his hands.  “I don’t understand.  The instructions clearly say medium heat.  The knob is set precisely in the middle!”

            Bobby switched off the stove, grabbed the lid and slapped it over the pan, leaving it in place until the flames went out.  Then he peered under the lid.  “What’s that in the bottom of the pan?”

            Dean indicated the box.  “These instructions say to pour an amount of batter equal in size to a silver dollar,” he explained.

            “So?”

            “Well, I couldn’t find one.  So I used a regular dollar instead.”

            Bobby stared.  “You put a paper dollar into a pan?!”

            Dean seemed to wilt.  “I needed a reference!”

            “And you left it in there when you turned on the heat?!”  Bobby rubbed his temples.  “It’s no wonder it caught fire, ya idjit!”

            “Dean?”

            Bobby looked up and saw Sam Squared.  Both men wore identical wary expressions as they stood in the doorway, their green eyes flicking between Bobby and the man holding the pancake mix box.

            “It ain’t Dean,” Bobby confirmed.  “We already figured that out, just we weren’t sure what we were dealing with here.  No idea how it got past the wards!”

            Dean looked somewhat irritated.  “You warded this trailer against demons and you still threw holy water in my face?!”

            “Force of habit!” Bobby defended.  “We didn’t know what you were!  Hell, we still don’t!”

            “You know precisely what I am!” Dean exclaimed.  “I’m an angel of the Lord!”

            “Dean, you said yes to an angel?!” Bobby exclaimed.  “Why the hell would...  Wait,” he realized.  “There’s only one angel you’d ever say yes to!  Cass?!”

            Dean’s face broke into a smile.  “I was starting to worry,” he admitted.

            Relief flooded through Bobby.  He smiled and quickly pulled the angel into a hug.  Cass hugged him back, and there it was, that weird calming effect the band had mentioned.  It was Cass, his boy, safe and in his arms at last.  Bobby was most definitely not getting choked up.  He tightened his arms around the wayward angel with a little prayer of thanks, holding on for just a little bit longer before finally forcing himself to let go.  “Balls, boy! I thought we’d lost you!” he grumbled. “Damned good to see you, but what are you doing in Dean?  How’d you even manage that?”

            “I’m afraid the effect of having two of the same angel in the same reality at the same time is still an ongoing process,” Cass sighed.  Dean’s green eyes were solemn as Cass cocked his head in the familiar fashion Bobby hadn’t seen in too long.  “I’m here to protect you, but I was being chased.  I needed Dean’s help!”

            “Because of the wards on his ribs,” Bobby realized.  “You went to Dean because you knew he’d let you in, and because, if you were in him, the angels couldn’t find you!”

            Castiel’s face broke into a sunny smile.  “Yes, precisely!  And now that I’m here, I need to talk to you.”  He looked past Bobby.  “Is it possible for me to speak to the others as well?”

            “You got it.  _Gentlemen!”_ Bobby roared in his best drill sergeant voice. “Rise and shine!  Cass came home!”

            It didn’t take long for Blake and the band to understand what had happened. And suddenly Cass was being hugged by everyone.  Blake especially was glad to see him.  The big cowboy lifted the angel clear off of his feet in a crushing bear hug and had to be reminded to let him go.  But everyone there was laughing and smiling in relief.  And for his part, the angel’s smile grew wider with each hug.  By the time Blake put him down, he was laughing in delight.

            “Dude, that’s you alright,” James declared.  “Same old angel valium, man!  You feel better just touching him!”

            “Our angel is back!”  PJ gave a little victory fist pump.  “Score one for the good guys!”

            “What about Dean?” Mickey wanted to know.  “Dean’s still in there?”

            Cass smiled.  “Of course he is.”  He smiled towards Dean’s brother, who was watching his every move.  “It’s alright.  Dean let me in.”

            Sammy nodded and gave him a little smile.  But he still looked worried, even as he came forward and hugged Cass again.

            “It’s good to see you again, boy,” Bobby said gruffly once the hugging was finally done.  “Now tell me what happened.  I thought you gave up your Grace so you could hide from the angels!  You took it back?”

            Cass shook his head.  “No. That helped for a time, and still is to a large degree.  It’s slowing down the process.  But we’re still the same angel drawing on the same power, and only one of us can benefit from that.”

            “So your angel mojo is still chugging along, even while most of it’s gone?” Matt summarized.  “Even though it’s in two different places?”

            “Cass is still Cass, even without his Grace,” Bobby noted.  “What he did ain’t never been done before, and he did it for reasons that have absolutely no precedence!  Even with his Grace gone, I suppose I should have realized that he could still be feeling some effect from the transfer.”

            “Does this mean you’re taking your power back?” Blake wanted to know.

            Cass shook his head.  “If all of my Grace is in one place, in all likelihood that’s one version of me as an archangel and one version of me gone.  I would prefer that didn’t happen.”

            “Ok, that’s all well and good, Cass,” Farrar called.  “But why are you in Dean?”

            “That’s what I was wondering too,” Lawyer Sam agreed.  “Cass, what’s wrong with Jimmy Novak’s vessel that you had to jump into Dean?  Where’d you leave your old vessel?”

            “I didn’t have access to Novak’s vessel,” Cass explained.  “I knew that Dean could contain my essence, so I came to him and asked permission.  He gave it.”

            “Wait, what do you mean you didn’t have access to Novak’s vessel?” Blake wanted to know.  “How could you lose access to it if you were in it?”

            “What happened?” James asked.  “You get knocked out of it, buddy?  Because you could have come to me, and I would have let you borrow me for a while!”

            “Careful!” Rufus called.  “I know you guys all know this angel, but that’s never something to just offer. You have no idea what it is an angel can do to its host!”

            “It’s alright,” Cass soothed.  He smiled at James.  “I appreciate the offer, but only certain humans have bodies that are capable of holding the essence of an angel.  And even then, only with their permission.”

            “Yeah, be careful about saying yes to an angel,” Sammy grumbled.  “I assure you, it’s generally a bad idea!”  He looked at Cass with concern.  “Cass, I’m really glad to have you back, buddy.  But can I talk to Dean?”

            Cass stilled.  “I don’t think that’s wise.”

            “Why not?”

            “Well, he’s very angry right now.”

            “Dude, is he in there, just watching and not able to do anything?” Mickey asked. “Castiel, love ya, buddy, but that really must suck!”

            “Like I said,” Rufus declared.  “Always think twice before you offer to be a vessel for an angel!”

            But Bobby raised a hand for silence.  He stepped closer to Cass, narrowing his eyes.  “Cass?” he called.  “Why is Dean angry?”

            The green eyes shifted and looked troubled.  “He seems to feel that I’ve deceived him, and now I’ve trapped him and won’t let him out,” he admitted.  “He’s very angry about it.  I was giving him time to calm down before I tried to talk to him again, because right now he is extremely belligerent!”

            “Well, Cass, if you just let him out for a moment, that would probably calm him a lot faster than keeping him trapped in there, don’t you think?” Blake suggested.

            Cass sighed.  “Maybe, but then he would be in control, not just of the body, but of me, of my powers.”

            “But Cass, Dean knows your powers better than anyone,” Blake pointed out.

            “My powers are different now, with what’s been happening to me,” the angel explained.  “And Dean is very angry right now!  I’m afraid, with full access to my powers and his temper...?”

            “Yeah, let’s not destroy yet another temporary shelter,” Rufus agreed.  “Well, shit!  Sorry, Dean-o, but you better settle down, boy!”

            “So once he’s calm, you can let him out, right?” Jesse asked.

            Cass looked uncomfortable.  “I can try? I mean, it’s possible for me to step back and let the host take control.  But I’ve never done it before.  And Dean, he’s strong.  If I let him out and he fights me to remain in control, I’m not sure what could happen. That’s why he’s angry.  I believe he assumed we would share control, and I assumed he’d understand that, given my situation, I needed to keep my powers under tight control.  Since he has no way to understand them now...?”  He sighed. “I have no desire to trap my Righteous Man, and he’s so upset!  Perhaps I should have gone to another?”

            “I would have let you in,” Lawyer Sam confessed.  “If Dean and Sam could hold you, then so could I!  But I suspect Dean would have been pissed and insisted you go to him.”

            “You got that right,” Sammy agreed.  “Besides, we need Sam for lawyer stuff.  But even if you’d come to me, Dean still would have insisted you go to him. You did the right thing, Cass.” He frowned.  “I’m worried about Dean, I won’t lie.  But once he calms down, I’ll try to talk to him, and we can experiment a little.  Tell him that?”

            “He can hear you.”  Cass’s voice was quiet, his green eyes troubled.  “I’m letting him see and hear as much as possible, to try to help calm him down.  I had to push him back to take over this vessel, and eventually, I had to, well, move away from him.  He was very upset.  What he was saying, um, I’d prefer not to repeat it.”

            “That’s Dean alright,” Bobby grumbled.

            “Ok, gentlemen, everyone get dressed,” Blake ordered.  “I’m tired of looking at men in their underwear.  Cass, you get dressed too.  Then we’ll talk.”

TO BE CONTINUED!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept going on in his Admiral Akbar voice “It’s a trap!” Then yelled because no one listens to him. Liked the grumpy old men. Thought it was amazing just how dumb angels are, and that Cass managed to set the place on fire in such a short amount of time.
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Turns out, I got Maroon 5’s interaction with each other remarkably accurate. They really do get excited and talk over each other, go on tangents, and generally spew nonsense much like I’ve written! See for yourself! This is just the original five members. What are they like now that PJ and Sam Farrar have joined them?
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXgK927kuw0&frags=pl%2Cwn


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